A f t e r G l o w
by LolliliciousLolly
Summary: Jesse, tired of being invisible to his Susannah, makes a Faustian deal with Paul Slater: newly resurrected, Jesse has three days to make Susannah fall in love with him. But when has Paul played by the rules...even his own? "Fairytales" Writing Challenge
1. Doff Thy Ghosthood

Bear with me, my excruciatingly lovely lovelies. This premise is very similar to my one-shot "Purgatory." So I am effectively plagiarising from myself.

But never fear, I won't press charges against me. I'm too hot to go to court.

This was written as an unofficial entry for **the _February Mediator Writing Challenge_, "Once Upon a Shadowland."** Please think about entering! We need more participants!

**The fairytale I have selected is: "The Little Mermaid."**

Don't expect any _actual_ seafolk or talking crabs, though (unless they're of the crotch-infestation variety, hehe.) There's only a slight reference to it. The Disney one, by the way…the other is just depressing! It's AU, something you should pick up in the first section or so. By the way, YAY for me writing in 3rd Person! I haven't done that in God knows how long…

Speaking of ridiculously long, I'm so glad this is unofficial, since this entry is WAY too freakin' long to be allowed, (that's what she said.) But I just _can't_ write short stories. I'm physically incapable. There's so much to tell, and so little space to write it all! So, naturally, I write it _all_. My apologies for the length. This will be a multi-chaptered story, but the chapters won't be long at all. For me, anyway.

This is dedicated to Stephanickers and Editor Em, who helped me plan it.

And here we go, folks…

-**A f t e r G l o w **-

Susannah stood sceptically before her doorway, a book in her hands. Her face was creased in irritation as she recited words she did not understand. Her efforts to memorise them were not going well, as her eyes continued to dart guiltily back down.

'_'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague?'_ she rehearsed, uninhibited. '_It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man...' _

A snicker escaped her at these words, but she maintained seriousness and continued. '_O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet…'_

Sitting before her on the window seat, a captivated audience to the unwitting performer, Jesse smiled serenely. If there was one thing he loved, it was Shakespeare. Well, Shakespeare and Susannah, at least. A combination of the two made his dead heart ache more than ever.

Frustrated with her constant cheating, Susannah lowered the book entirely, sliding her thumb in the middle to remember the page. She strained to remember Juliet's words.

'_So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title…'_ she said, a secretive grin coming to her face. Jesse noted this with affection. '_Romeo, doff thy name; and for that name, which is no part of thee…_um_…_oh, crap.'

She was having trouble with the final line. Jesse prompted her, ignoring the futility of his voice.

'_Take all myself_,' he said, as if by second nature.

The girl paused, her brow furrowing slightly as if she'd heard something. And mysteriously, the final line that she could never remember tumbled seamlessly from her lips, as if someone had placed it inside her mind for her.

Jesse smiled contentedly, choosing to believe that she hadn't remembered of her own accord… that some part of her had heard his voice, planes away from her own. However, if he'd hoped for any acknowledgement; a thank you, a smile, or even a glance in his direction, he was in for his accustomed disappointment. The girl was blind, deaf and in all pertinent ways senseless to him.

That in no way stopped him from loving her.

Until she'd come along, he hadn't particularly cared for his mundane afterlife. He read; he observed. He understood his death, long after the bitterness had faded. He'd had a hundred and fifty odd years to adjust to his predicament.

But then…Susannah Simon had arrived. For months, he'd avoided the room; his death place – not due to the ghastly memories, but because he felt he owed her a certain privacy. Slowly, however, temptation got the better of him. In increasingly long spells, he would stay, and just…watch her. The slow blink of her startling emerald eyes made his lips twitch into a sad, ancient smile. She'd talk to her friend on the phone, saying the most charming things. She'd make him laugh, something he could barely remember doing even in his years of _life_. When she'd smile, one corner of her rosy lips would raise just that little bit higher than the other, and she took his breath away.

And before she would leave to go out, she'd stand in front of the mirror, gazing at herself with an air of vulnerability. She'd sigh, fix her hair nervously, and leave. And he'd love her even more, for she didn't understand how incredibly beautiful she really was…

She made his cold, dead heart so _desperately_ yearned to beat, just once more…

With a yawn, Susannah lightly tossed the book onto her desk, satisfied that she'd somewhat memorised the monologue for her English assignment. She then went to her window, pulling the curtains closed as she glanced around the room timidly. Jesse, jolted from his reverie of her, hid his eyes with haste as she changed into her night clothes. His ears strained for her to pull back the covers of her bed before he dared look up again. His cheeks burned red. Despite his efforts to grant her privacy, he still felt…immoral. To even be here…_spying_ like this.

But after all, what did it matter? She was utterly unaware of him, and always would be. She, his Juliet, and he, the Romeo of the piece. They could never be together. However, unlike the Shakespearean hero, Jesse could not just doff his name. It was not his name that separated them, but the planes existing between the realm of the living and the dead.

Romeo and Juliet had it easy, he decided, forlorn.

At least Romeo had a pulse.

-**A f t e r G l o w -**

'You want…what?'

Jesse tried to stand tall, keeping his face impassive yet determined. He still struggled to understand how exactly this…boy before him, could be all that the others had said he would be. There he sat, in an expensive computer chair with an irritated look on his tanned face; his hair was gelled in crisp, dark curls atop his head. His eyes were hauntingly pale, the only thing about his fairly unimposing appearance that made Jesse wary. He was practically a child – just with a man's body.

'I've heard that you make…deals,' Jesse explained hesitantly. 'With…people like me.'

The boy raised a dark eyebrow delicately. 'Well, that's just the thing. You're not exactly a person, are you? You're barely a _sliver_ of a person.'

It had been too long since Jesse had had any interaction of this kind; still, these obvious but hurtful remarks were unwelcome. His jaw tightened in dislike of the boy, as he awaited a decision.

He was still not convinced. 'So, ghost. You've told me what _you_ want. Tell me what _I_ want…and then I'll think about it.'

Jesse swallowed. He knew well that these deals did not come without a price, yet he also knew – as did the boy – that he had nothing to offer. However, he did not have to ponder his predicament too long – a moment had passed before the boy suddenly grinned.

'You know what? I like you, ghost. I think I can recognise an okay guy when I see one.' He stood up, surprising Jesse when he came to stand at almost his eye-level. The boy stuck out a hand in greeting. 'Paul.'

Jesse narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but accepted the hand all the same, dully echoing the name to himself. He then replied, 'I am Jesse de Silva. So…Paul,' he used the name with caution, 'You will help me?'

'Give you back your life?' Paul smiled sunnily. 'Not a chance, pal.'

Jesse's face turned into the beginnings of thunder, before Paul laughed and quickly added, 'Would you relax? Obviously, I can't just go giving life wherever I please, or I'd be swarmed with your kind all the time. However…' his eyes glinted. 'You mentioned a girl…'

More apprehensive than ever, Jesse took a step back, but answered with a guilty, '…Yes.'

'You love her?'

'I do.'

'And…she can't see you, I'm guessing.'

'No.'

Paul chuckled. 'Obviously. Then again, it's not like she'd fall in love with you even if she _could_, like I do. You're not exactly the life of the party.'

Jesse hated mentioning anything of Susannah to this stranger, one whose eyes he did not trust.

'What's her name?' Paul went on casually, leaning on his study desk.

Jesse stared at the wall, reluctant to answer.

'Come on, Jess. If I'm going to help you, I'll be wanting to know a few details about this,' Paul warned.

Heavily, the ghost murmured softly, '…Her name is Susannah.'

Paul mused over this for a moment longer, staring curiously at Jesse. Finally, he grinned, flashing a brilliant set of white teeth.

'All right. Your plight has moved me. Here's what I'll do, Jess. I will bring you back…for three days, and three days only. In that time, you have to get your precious "Susannah" to fall _completely_ in love with you. And she has to say it, and mean it. If she hasn't uttered the words before the sun sets on the third day…then I win.'

Jesse drew a sharp breath.

'You win what…?' he demanded, a little defensively.

Paul kept his face very even. 'Well, you've already made it clear you don't exactly have a sizeable inheritance to leave me – or really, much of _anything_…so we'll decide that later, shall we?'

'What happens…_after_?' Jesse asked, too sceptical a man to consider this covenant a godsend just yet.

Paul stared at Jesse as if he were simple. 'You die, moron.'

That wasn't what he'd meant. But he let the question wither all the same.

With a new exuberance, Paul jumped back on his feet. 'So, Jess. We got a deal then? Ready to tackle your girl headlong and sweep her off her feet?'

'Yes.' Jesse was definite now.

Paul smirked. 'Think you can get her to love you in just three days?'

Jesse didn't know what made him say it. Only that he severely disliked Paul, and wanted to sound more confident than he actually was.

'I only need three days,' he said.

Paul shrugged, an arrogant air wafting over him. 'I only need fifteen _minutes_.'

Jesse was still trying to process the connotations of this comment when Paul suddenly grabbed Jesse's hand into a tight fist, before ripping a small but deadly looking dagger out of the top draw in his desk – certainly not an accessory of any normal seventeen-year-old. Jesse tried to recoil, but Paul's grasp was like iron. He chuckled at the ghost's alarm.

'Oh, this? This is just binding our pact. Written contracts are so last millennium. Blood is a far more powerful seal…'

And as he sharply slid the blade across their entwined knuckles, Jesse's stomach lurched. Dimly, he felt the pain in his hand, but it was being overwhelmed by the sudden presence of a fierce pounding at his temple. He staggered back from Paul, breaking their blood connection, gripping his head. Paul's dark eyes flashed in fascination as he sat back down, watching him struggle.

Jesse fell to his knees, trying to block out that pain. It would not relent – it was omnipresent, pumping hotly and rapidly in his head like constant gunshots to his skull. Slurring whispers ridiculed him.

'What…have you done…' he gasped in horror, jerking with an abrupt cry of pain that blinded him, making him see only darkness for a second.

Paul snorted. 'You think resurrection is painless? Think again.' He affixed with interest, 'Although, I've never seen it _this _bad before. You must really be _old._'

Jesse roared in agony, collapsing to the ground. His skin felt tight, like everything inside him was swelling, rapid and boiling. He twisted harshly at the sudden surge of that horrifying pounding sensation inside his chest – each strike pierced him anew, as did their merciless echoes…

And then, in a moment of stunning realisation, he recognised the familiar pulsating.

He'd almost forgotten what a heartbeat felt like.

The eternal moment at last ended, leaving him breathless and weak. He just lay there, exhausted from plummeting so fast from such intensity. His world was black.

When his eyes finally cracked open, Paul was standing over him, smug.

'Another happy customer,' he declared, his smirk crooked. 'Be seeing you, Jesse…'

And then, the darkness returned, swallowing him whole.

-**A f t e r G l o w -**

Next instalment will be up _very shortly_, I promise (since it's already written…) so **please review**!


	2. Fine Mortal Experiences

Chapter Two of this strange little story…

- **A f t e r G l o w **-

The tide washed in, surrounding his still body before it gently retreated, repeating the process hypnotically. Cold, pearly moonlight illuminated him, making him shine in a way that his ghostly aura never had. His skin tingled at the sensation, even if he was not yet conscious. Slowly, his finger twitched with life as he groaned. Raising his head, he cursed the sand plastered wetly to the side of his face.

Then, all of a sudden, the memory of his pact flooded his mind and he sat up, all too alert of the steady pulse coursing healthily through his body. He held his breath, listening even closer to make for absolute sure that his ears hadn't deceived him.

…They hadn't.

Jesse de Silva was very much so alive.

He could scarcely comprehend it. After all those years of loneliness, of listening to nothing inside of himself, he could suddenly see, hear, and feel _everything_. The air smelt rich with the salt of the sea. He could taste it in the air, and it made him inhale deeply, trying to capture and preserve the luxurious scent. Even the air in his new lungs was pure and fresh. He loved breathing. He'd continued the habit as a ghost, but it had been meaningless. Respiration was something he would _never_ take for granted again. The air was far too precious, too sweet…

With a start, he suddenly remembered the reason behind his renaissance. He'd been unconscious for several hours – hours that had now been wasted from his limited time of three days. His new heart began quickening in his stress. He was alarmed by its racing; each mortal experience from a hundred and fifty years ago felt so new, so astonishing –

As he dragged his bare feet from the chilled water and up the sand dunes of the moonlit beach, it occurred to him that his attempts to woo his Susannah now would be wasted, since she was undoubtedly asleep by this time…

He swore under his breath. He'd lost time already…

Traipsing up the old, wooden steps to the abandoned parking lot, he tried to recognise where he was. It was a rare day when he'd ventured away from his death place, and even so, he certainly had not come to the ocean – he was struggling to remember back to his old life, and where exactly the old hotel – now Susannah's home – had been in relation to the sea…but he could not recall…

Now journeying down the dark road, he walked on the bitumen, wincing slightly as he stepped on glass or sharp rocks, but relishing the sensations all the same. Even pain was new to him. He'd spent so long in a prolonged state of numbness that this too made him feel so wonderfully mortal and _alive_.

Trying to sense the general direction of her house, he absently crossed the road, unaware of the two orbs of light fast approaching him until suddenly there was an explosion of pain at his hind and upper back separately, a screech of rubber, and he was flying.

Only seconds had passed before a shrill scream sounded. 'Oh my God!' came a hysterical voice, 'Oh my God, I didn't even _see_ – are you _okay?_ Oh God, please don't be dead, please don't be–'

Jesse groaned as urgent hands tapped his face. Oddly enough, he couldn't feel much of anything except the fingers on his skin. He rolled on his side and assured the panicked individual, 'I'm all right…'

She started gushing in frenzied relief, thanking God all over again. Quickly, she helped him sit up, and suddenly, he was stunned by the presence of bright, terrified emerald eyes a foot before his face. He recoiled in shock, and she, his Susannah, recoiled too. 'I'm so sorry,' she babbled on, on the verge of tears. She was kneeling in front of him. 'Please don't sue me. I mean…you totally are allowed to, but… I'll get into _so_ much trouble. My license is more hypothetical than existent, so I'm _technically_ not allowed to be unleashed on the roads for another few weeks, but I just needed to get out of the house because – and I'm totally giving you an unnecessary life story when I _should _be checking you for concussion,' she concluded, furious with herself. 'God, I'm so, _so_ sorry. More so that you have to deal with the _nutcase_ that hit you, than actually hitting you.'

Intelligently, Jesse replied, '…What?'

His heart was pounding rapidly again. She was here. He was alone with her. Perhaps his hours of unconsciousness were not all a waste…

'Um,' the girl blushed crimson, and Jesse's skin got hot. 'Wow. Yeah – really sorry about that, um, incessant babble. It's a thing I do when I'm hysterical–' a high, fearful giggle escaped her. 'Do you need to go to the hospital? I can totally drive you…or, um, maybe you don't really trust me behind the wheel, and for that I don't exactly blame you, since _I_ don't trust me anymore – '

'What is your name?' Jesse enquired, catching her off guard.

She stared in bewilderment, but then sighed, dismayed. 'Oh yeah. For the suing part. Right. Uh, I'm Suze Simon… my registration number is–'

'Susannah?' he said softly.

The girl froze in her prattling, once again shocked. 'Y-yes,' she stammered.

'Like the song,' Jesse smiled. Slowly, she did too, even managing a soft, nervous laugh.

'Yeah, I guess,' she agreed. 'Do you need help up?'

He shook his head adamantly, climbing to his feet…but he swayed dangerously from the sudden movement. She caught his weight, and Jesse's paled in shame.

'I'm sorry, I didn't realise my feet would be so uncooperative,' he apologised, trying to keep his distance…contact with her made him get increasingly light-headed. However, she would not hear of him walking unaided – determinedly, she slung his arm around her shoulders, offering her full support.

'Hey. I just ran you over. You are _fully_ entitled to stagger,' she said decidedly. '…And also to sue me.'

'I'm not going to… _sue_ you,' Jesse assured her. They finally made it back to her car. Jesse stared at it strangely – he'd only seen them from afar, and had never been in one before. Seeing him hesitate, Susannah opened the door for him and backed the both of them up till he was in prime position to just fall into the backseat. He did so fairly ungracefully, making her stumble, landing over him.

The both of them tensed at the contact – Jesse's virginal nervous system nearly imploded in alarm, and Susannah was almost equally startled at the strange sensations that paraded across her skin as she noted with humiliation that one of her knees had landed in between his legs, and her right hand was touching his firm, broad chest…

After a hasty intake of breath, she crawled off of him. Jesse, still mystified by how intoxicating her proximity had been, simply stared at the place her face had been moments before, inches above his own. Susannah laughed in attempt to conceal her embarrassment, snapping Jesse's attention once more.

Awkwardly, she asked, 'So, do you think you need, um, medical attention? You seem lucid enough, but you never know…'

Jesse shook his head. 'I will be fine, _querida_. Perfectly.'

She blinked quickly at this foreign word, unsure what it meant, but noting nonetheless that it had sounded so… pretty. 'It's no trouble. I can drive you to the hospital. It's better to be safe than sorry.'

Once again, he refused. 'That's not necessary. You've already been too kind.'

She snorted sarcastically. 'Oh, yes. How _excessive_ of me, seeing if you survived my maniac driving. I'm just "too kind".'

'Well, if you put it that way…' Jesse began, and she laughed.

After another bout of sincere apologies, she finally sighed and said, 'Well, where were you walking before I flew at you like a bat out of hell? Can I give you a ride?'

An indecent thought began to cross Jesse's mind, but he, a gentleman, did not allow it to finish. He began to say yes, but something occurred to him: where was he supposed to go?

'I…' he said slowly, 'I can't seem to remember where I'm…staying. So I'll just continue on foot.'

At these, Susannah's face turned from anxious to utterly appalled. 'You can't _remember_? Oh my God, how hard did I hit you? I was only going fifty!' She settled once again, smoothing down her hair in stress. 'Listen. I have a friend who'll probably let you stay with him for a few days until you get your memory back, since you're refusing to go to a hospital–' Then she added with an eye-roll, 'So _stubborn_.'

He chuckled. 'You seem quite the headstrong girl yourself – so I'd imagine how meeting fellow stubbornness would only challenge you.' In other news, he responded to her invitation. 'This friend…they really wouldn't mind me staying? I wouldn't bother them for more than three days…'

Finally pleased that she'd done something to help, Susannah grinned. 'He'll be cool with it. He's got nothing better to do, anyway. I just hope you like getting your ear chewed off with lectures on _inappropriate spending of Student Council funds_, and what not.'

Jesse quirked an eyebrow, but she just groaned. 'Long story.'

- **A f t e r G l o w **-

After driving for five minutes, in which Susannah had animatedly revealed the story of ordering a replacement head for the large statue of Junipero Serra, their school's patron, with a mono-brow and a nose-ring, Jesse's sides ached from chuckling so much – especially at her vivid impressions of this Father Dominic who, as far as Susannah had now led him to believe, constantly talked in a loud, droning lisp.

Upon meeting the priest, Jesse discovered this was rather untrue, which only seemed to make it more amusing.

Blearily, the snowy-topped man came to the door with a sigh. 'Susannah Simon,' he chided, 'It is nearly two in the _morning_…it isn't the best time for one of our little chats – '

Susannah interjected quickly. 'Father D,' she said, 'I, um, need your help. I kind of…you know…ran someone over, and–'

His white brows shot up so high, Susannah feared they'd be lost in his hair.

'–And… oh don't look at me like that, I didn't kill him! And I _know_ I don't exactly have my, um, license yet, but I am a _perfectly_ capable driver, this little incident not withstanding. So yeah. He doesn't really remember much, and doesn't wanna go to the hospital…' At this point, her face softened to one which warned the priest that she wanted something. Usually it was an unnecessary hall pass, so she could skip Geometry. Tonight, it was for him to play hostess to a man who looked like a pirate.

Susannah tugged on Jesse's arm, yanking him out of the shadows, before turning back to Father Dominic with a pleading look. '_Pleeeease?_ Isn't it the, uh, Christian thing to do? Open your home and all that jazz?'

'Then why have you not done it?' he said, a little accusingly.

Susannah smirked devilishly. '…You want me to let a twenty-something guy stay in my room? Okay, fine. Good night, then. Just know I'm _not_ calling the kid "Dominic," come nine months when - '

Aghast, the priest's hand shot to Susannah's shoulder as she'd turned, already dragging the bemused Jesse away. She snickered quietly as Father Dominic groaned in defeat.

'_All right_,' he sighed. He turned to give Jesse a cagey glance, before allowing his gaze to flicker back to Susannah. 'Just be thankful I'm not telling your _mother_ about this, Miss Simon.'

'I _am _thankful,' she protested. She then paused and said sincerely. 'Really thankful. This is a big help, Father D.' Turning to Jesse, she patted his arm. 'You'll be okay here?'

Jesse, speaking for the first time in the priest's presence, choked out a 'Yes,' and with a glowing smile that her plan had gone without flaw, she turned on her heal and strolled happily off into the darkness, promising to be back in the morning to check up on him.

Now alone, Father Dominic invited Jesse in, strangely polite all of a sudden. Jesse got the impression that the priest only acted so argumentative around Susannah, since she obviously frustrated him so. This made Jesse's affection only intensify.

After a few awkward introductions over a cup of tea and a brief recount of his collision with Susannah's windscreen, Father Dominic suddenly froze.

'Wait,' he narrowed his eyes, lowering his teacup. '…I've seen you before, haven't I? But…no, of course I couldn't have…'

Jesse's heart skipped a beat, something he noted with some unease.

But the Father hadn't stopped staring at him. His eyes flickered over Jesse's less-than-modern attire, and he slowly gasped, placing the teacup on the table in wonder. 'Oh, my…'

Jesse stood up quickly, afraid his secret was about to be revealed – either that or a horrible case of mistaken identity. However, Father Dominic's amazed question stopped him. 'But…how?'

'It's temporary,' Jesse said, his back turned. 'For three days.' He faced the priest, his eyes also suspicious. 'How did you know?'

'Oh please, dear boy. All the Carmel mediators know of Jesse de Silva, the ghost who never leaves the old boarding house on Pinecrest.' He scoffed. 'I say "all" as if there are more than two of us…'

'The other?' Jesse pressed with some urgency.

'A pupil of mine,' the priest shrugged, still rather spellbound by Jesse's resurrection. 'He…prefers to dance to the beat of his own drum, however. He doesn't take kindly to me giving him advice about our gift. I sometimes worry that he – '

Father Dominic went cold.

'…Did Paul do this to you?'

Jesse nodded, and the priest groaned in irritation. 'Might I ask, why?'

Guarded against telling this holy man about his intentions towards another of his pupils, Jesse merely replied, 'I felt cheated by my death. After all these years, I simply wished to have a few more mortal experiences before I passed on.'

Father Dominic sighed. 'You should not have made a deal with Paul Slater.' His disappointment, however, was short lived. 'Oh well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. So…fine mortal experiences, you seek? Well, I've got just the thing…'

And after disappearing to his the top section of his refrigerator, he returned with a cylindrical tub.

'Chocolate chip cookie dough ice-cream!' the priest said merrily. 'Do not tell the sisters, though. I, erm, "confiscated" it from them.' He cleared his throat guiltily, eyeing the ice-cream with a certain lust. 'Anyway. Now, as they say, my friend… "Dig in!"'

**--A f t e r G l o w –**

Please review…?


	3. Kind of Lame, Kind of Sweet

A/N: Love you all!

- **A f t e r G l o w **-

Father Dominic had rifled through the school's lost property to find Jesse an outfit that _wouldn't_ make him look like he'd just come of the set of a Jane Austen movie adaptation. They had been previously washed, of course. Anything else would just be…unhygienic.

Settling on jeans that were two sizes too large held up by a fluorescent green belt, and a black button-down that had some indistinguishable word on the pocket, Jesse gazed cynically at his reflection. Father Dom looked pleased with his handiwork.

'There you go,' he replied. 'Now, you look like you fit in.'

Jesse kept his response to himself.

He certainly did feel in quite a good mood after his shower, though. He hadn't had that experience back in his life, and he had to marvel at how wonderful it had felt to have the steaming hot water striking his aching back, hungry for more sensory thrills. After an hour and a half, the priest was forced to run the kitchen water in order to get him out. At the shock of the cold, Jesse sheepishly removed himself.

When Susannah showed up at ten o'clock, Jesse's hair was still wet. He answered the door expectantly, and was not disappointed by the vision that greeted him. In a bright green baby-doll dress that only enhanced the sparkling colour of her eyes, she looked lovely. He concentrated on her face, scared his eyes would wander again. Although, she certainly was having trouble restraining her venturing gaze, something he noted with pleasure.

Her cheeks flushed as he caught her staring at the opening of his shirt.

'Oh,' she said, a little too loudly, 'Hey. You look better. Do you feel better?'

She looked as if she wanted to find out for herself.

Jesse nodded. 'Yes, much better.'

'So...' she leant casually on the doorframe, letting her eyes drift to Jesse's bright green belt. She snickered a little, but didn't comment. 'Still don't remember where you're going then?'

'Not yet,' he admitted with a sigh.

She definitely looked away as she replied. 'So...that means you don't have plans for today.'

Gobsmacked at the implied question, Jesse could barely find his voice as he answered. 'I d- not that I...no. No plans. W-why do you ask?'

She shrugged gently, still staring at her fingernails. 'Well...I guess I kind of owe you one for, you know, nearly killing you. I still don't know how I'll make it up to you, but...would you mind letting me try?'

From somewhere behind Jesse, he could have sworn he heard an impatient sigh of, 'Ugh. _Typical_.'

'N-not at all,' Jesse said quickly. 'This isn't necessary, though–'

'It kind of is,' she disputed.

Jesse had no desire to argue the matter any further. He closed the door firmly behind him, and followed a now extremely pleased Susannah.

'Don't worry,' she said. 'I didn't drive. You're safe from me.'

Then, with a sly grin and vivid, impish eyes, she added, '…For now.'

- **A f t e r G l o w **-

Due to Susannah's lack of a car…not to mention her aversion to travelling on public transport that _wasn't_ like that of New York, they walked for a while. Guiltily, she admitted that she didn't even know his name yet. With a grimace, he told her his real name – '_Hector? _Oh my God, you must have got beaten up_ every day!_' – but then begged her to just call him Jesse. At the word, she smiled one of her secretive smiles again, softly repeated the name, and then shot him a warm look that she had not intended him to catch.

But he did. And it made his heart flutter with life…

Eventually, they reached a local park. Susannah prattled on as she did when she was nervous about how it looked like it was going to rain soon, and that she couldn't stay too long because she had homework to do, due Monday morning. Jesse inspected the sky, observing that she was correct about the impending storm.

'What…homework must you do?' he frowned at her.

She groaned. 'Gotta rehearse a bit from a play with my partner. It's a big assignment where we have to perform and analyse a Shakespearean scene. Naturally, I chose the easiest one, even though he wanted to do Hamlet, but I said I was _not _gonna get me to a nunnery any time soon, so he–' She broke off, her face creasing in distress. 'I'm _totally_ boring you.'

'On the contrary,' Jesse grinned, staring at her features in enthralment. Everything about her drew him in…her enthusiasm when she spoke, the way she blinked quickly, then rolled her eyes, then widened them emphatically…the perfect speed at which her lips formed her words, puckering whenever she paused…

He was spellbound by her.

She didn't appear to notice, thankfully.

The pair of them wandered over to the swing set where a little boy and an older woman had just finished their episode of ecstatic giggles and shrieks of '_Higher_!' Jesse motioned towards the swing, inviting her to sit. With a blush, she did so. He started pushing her slowly as they both began building up momentum.

'So,' Jesse said smugly, 'What play are you performing for your project? Wait…let me guess… _Romeo and Juliet?_'

Not as impressed at his foreknowledge as he'd have liked her to be, she just nodded. 'Yeah. The infamous balcony scene,' she said shamefacedly, and managed a non-committal laugh. 'My partner knows all of his bit…it's just me that's lame and terrible at memorising, even though I've been practising for ages–'

'I could help you instead,' Jesse offered before he could stop himself.

She turned around on the swing to look at him as he gave her another firm push. 'But – I don't have the book with me…it's at home.'

'I happen to know that play,' he said, trying to sound offhand. He wasn't sure whether she'd find his familiarity with Shakespeare romantic…or just weird.

She reacted with a mixture of both. 'Wow, that's…kind of lame,' she admitted before all else, 'But at the same time…kind of sweet. If you really wanna try help a lost cause like me–'

He laughed. 'Lost causes are my specialty.'

Susannah looked very glad when she'd decided to "blow off" her rehearsal with her partner. Jesse got the impression she wasn't too fond of him.

And the next hour was spent exchanging and prompting dialogue from the second scene of the second act. At one point, he even led her over to the slide, picking her up and allowing her to stand on top in order to recreate the setting of a balcony. She thought this idea had been incredibly cute. Perched atop the slide, she daintily sent her quotes down to him with a little more inhibition than her usual, private rehearsal, but after three quarters of an hour, she was spouting off lines off by heart, only occasionally needing Jesse's prompts.

'_O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb_,' she scowled, tossing her hand down at her Romeo. '_Lest that thy love prove likewise variable_.'

Jesse moved closer to the ladder of the slide, climbing up one rung. '_What shall I swear by?_' he enquired.

'_Do n-not swear at all_,' she insisted, faltering as Jesse ascended another rung. '…_Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry–_' once again, she stumbled as he climbed higher. She pressed her knees firmly together as his hands came either side of her legs on the ladder. '_And_…um…'

'_And I'll believe thee_,' Jesse whispered.

She nodded, her face hot despite the cool weather. Jesse arms were tense on the ladder as he concentrated on not touching her, or he feared he'd fall off completely.

Susannah just stared down at him, completely at a loss for words – an infectious state which Jesse appeared to be suffering at that exact moment. He climbed the final rung which finally brought them at eye-level. She swallowed visibly, her hands gripping the handles of the slide hard.

'It's…your turn,' she murmured softly. 'Or have you forgotten?'

And for the life of him, when confronted with brilliant green eyes and those rosy lips, he couldn't remember it.

Shakespeare was the _last _thing on his mind.

Her face drew closer to his, her gaze sliding down to his mouth as her face softened vulnerably…

But just as their noses touched, Jesse choked out the quote, '_If - if my h-heart's dear love.._.' He flashed a grin, pulling away. 'See? I didn't forget.'

Looking somewhat crestfallen, she blinked. Then, recovering almost instantly, she laughed a little too loudly to be credible. She went to say something, but Jesse was already climbing hurriedly down the slide, concentrating on his steps since his knees were on the verge of buckling.

_Why _had he withdrawn? What was _wrong_ with him? Hadn't this been what he'd wanted?

_Perhaps it was too soon…_ he fretted mentally. Perhaps he was rushing her. But by God, he could not help himself. He hadn't intended that to happen. He hadn't meant to be so forward!

…But she had.

And he'd pulled back like the coward he was, declining her invitation.

_Fool! _his mind cried in outrage. _You only have three days!_

And he was confident that he'd just made a mess of _everything_.

A little sadly, she too clambered down from the height of the slide. 'Um,' she mumbled, 'Thank you. And I'm sorry f–'

But she'd frozen mid-sentence, before shaking her head. It was wiser, she decided, to pretend that it hadn't happened at all.

…That she hadn't been about to kiss him.

They'd been so close, too. She could taste his warm breath on her lips still, which had been just _inches_ away…

But he hadn't wanted it to happen. That was what she had to fiercely remind herself. And who was she, to blindly lose her head for this tall, intriguing stranger? Magnetically drawn to him as she was, she refused to be impulsive and stupid.

Or at least, she'd try to employ a _little_ self-control next time.

Oh, yes. She _very _badly wanted there to be a next time…

And so that was how they'd planned another meeting, that night at eight.

Jesse was amazed that she was still bothering with him, but thanked his lucky stars all the same.

- **A f t e r G l o w **-

Angrily, Paul slammed his car door after he'd finally slumped back in the driver's seat. He'd been stood up. Paul Slater did _not_ get stood up. _He_ did the standing. But no…he'd been written off.

Suze Simon had caught his eye a few months ago. Gorgeous and wilful, he'd amused himself by chasing her, getting reactions out of her, teasing her with his presence. The snarkier her comments got, the more he was getting to her. He knew it. And when he'd finally convinced her to partner him in this project, he'd been convinced he'd won her over.

And yet…she'd just completely blown him off.

When that ghost had mentioned her name, it had been entertaining to think of Jesse making moon-eyes at a girl who was already hot and bothered with Paul Slater – and who would _remain _hot and bothered until he was done playing with her.

But eleven o'clock had come and gone, and she was nowhere in the vicinity of the library, their meeting place, which meant one thing:

She was with _him_.

That excuse of a _thing _that'd he'd _created_ – she'd chosen _him_ instead. That hadn't been a part of the plan. He'd been looking forward to the ghost tragically discovering that his lover was very much so taken. Three days of life, with nothing to show for it.

This was all wrong. How could he have charmed her so fast? Three days wasn't _nearly_ enough to win Susannah Simon – he knew, he'd _tried_.

Turning the key hostilely, he slammed his foot on the accelerator and took off down the street with a roar of his BMW's engine. He was pissed. This wasn't _fair_. The ghost wasn't supposed to actually be _successful_.

With a grim, tenacious face, he glared at the fast-approaching road, decided on what he must do.

Jesse was doing better than he'd ever expected. He couldn't be allowed to get too close to her. No…instead, Paul would enter the playing field. He'd fight for her.

And he'd win.

By any means necessary, as long as he didn't interfere with the terms of his contract with Jesse. He'd fight dirty if he had to. As long as he won in the end.

He could _not_ lose to a ghost. He _would_ not.

That was just too humiliating…

- **A f t e r G l o w **-

This is so much fun to write, hehe.

It was way too long to do as a one-shot, so enjoy the chapteryness! And please remember to review…?

And pretty please stop by the **Mediator Writing Challenge** **Forum**! Super-duper fun to be had there, folk.


	4. Stealing Your Food Virginity

I'm loving how fast I'm writing this! And if there's any typos, that's because I absolutely refuse to bother to edit. My apologies.

- **A f t e r G l o w **-

Ignoring the constant string of messages on her cell phone from the _actual_ Romeo to her reluctant Juliet, Susannah sat in her room, her skin tingling excitedly. She couldn't remember ever…_feeling _like this. Hesitantly, she tried to rationalise what she was feeling, but rationalisation was only designed to lie to oneself, and it was therefore useless.

How could she have felt so intensely about someone she'd known for less than a _day?_ She was almost sure that he felt something too…this sweet, funny, nervous man who was well on the way to thieving her affections…

Indeed, even Jesse could not believe this fantastic string of luck. The best moment of his new life had undoubtedly been being struck by a vehicle. Well, if not the best, then definitely the origin from which his best moments would derive. He would get..."run over" several more times if it meant more time with his Susannah.

He'd spent most of the day with her, and it had been breathtaking. For too long, he hadn't had breath to take and had therefore never understood the term very well. But finally, standing still, completely devoid of air - in the _good_ way, unlike how his death had occurred - he loved the fact that she had that power over him, to take his breath away...

With two hours to go until he would meet her at her home, he could barely sit still on Father Dominic's couch. The priest had arrived home moments before from performing a funeral, so with death on his mind, he greeted, 'Hello, Jesse.'

The ex-ghost rose to his feet politely, trying to be calm and cool, but Father Dominic saw straight through him. 'Oh, dear boy...' he tutted. 'One day, and you're already in love?'

Jesse groaned. 'Is it that obvious?'

'Plain as the collar on my neck,' the priest replied, a little unhappily. 'You really shouldn't be doing this to Susannah, Jesse. If it is indeed true that you only have life for three days, and she goes and falls for you, only for you to die... where would you be leaving her?'

...He hadn't thought of that.

'I - ' Jesse stuttered. 'B-but she...she's the reason I made this deal...'

This certainly seized Father Dominic's attention. His hands froze as he was sliding a dark leather-bound bible back onto his bookshelf, and he spun around. 'She's what?'

Alarmed at this righteous anger, Jesse stepped back, forgetting the couch was behind him; he stumbled backward ungraciously onto the seat.

Father Dominic's face changed. '...The old boarding house on Pinecrest...' he murmured under his breath, staring at Jesse. '...That's...you haunted _Susannah_?'

'I swear,' Jesse said quickly, 'I'd never want to hurt her. And although I admittedly didn't think far enough to see this ending badly, I just... I needed to know.' His gaze fell to his hands, which writhed within each other.

The old man sighed. 'Jesse...how can you expect her to love you in just _three_ days? That's an awful lot of pressure to put on the girl, don't you agree?'

'I'm not putting pressure on her,' he argued. 'If she feels the same way, then I get to live. If not, I'm perfectly happy to return to ghosthood, just as long as I get to keep these memories. I won't tell her about it...'

He continued to stare down. How the priest had made him feel so ashamed of himself so quickly, he didn't know. Gosh, this man must have been savage in the confessional.

After about a minute of morbid silence, Father Dominic sighed again. 'All right, Jesse,' he said finally. 'This obviously is a matter of...life and death. So, I guess you can only try...'

'That's all I wanted,' Jesse said quickly. If he wasn't mistaken, this sounded almost like...a blessing.

'With this in mind,' Father Dominic went on, digging his hand in his pocket, 'You might want to dress a little nicer for whatever you have planned for this evening.' And when his hand had returned, it held...

'Plastic?' Jesse raised an eyebrow at the small rectangle. 'What will this do?'

'This,' Father Dominic sighed guiltily, 'Is the most powerful piece of currency contemporary mortals can own. Jesse, I'd like to introduce you to...the credit card.'

- **A f t e r G l o w **-

At eight sharp, he stood before her house, a single orchid in his hand. He felt good; impressive. He should - the clothes he wore hadn't been inexpensive. Father Dominic had just sighed dismissively, 'You only live twice...' before swiping the card through.

The orchid had been Jesse's idea.

Knocking on the door, he swallowed nervously. Only in his most insane delusions had he seen himself standing here, ready to meet Susannah, or her family... From behind the door, he heard Susannah call, 'I think that's for me - ' only to be cut off by an innocent, 'I'll get it, Susie.'

And when the door was pulled open by an unsuspecting Mrs. Ackerman, she let out a low, '...Woah.'

Jesse blinked quickly. 'Oh, er, hello.' He looked down with embarrassment at the flower, before half-hiding it behind his back. 'Is Susannah there?'

The mother was suddenly grinning very widely. 'So, you're Jesse then...'

Susannah came to stand beside her, looking frazzled, but -

'Dios...' Jesse whispered under his breath. There she stood in a floating knee-length dress, cobalt in colour, with threads of silver weaved all through the fabric. She was just too stunning. He gave her the flower, and she flushed with pleasure.

'Well, don't you look pretty,' her mother smiled at her, before looking back at Jesse. 'He looks very pretty too.'

_'Mom_,' she whined. Jesse blushed.

With promises to be back by eleven, Susannah was permitted to leave with Jesse after being highly approved by Mrs. Ackerman Susannah apologised relentlessly for her mother's embarrassing behaviour, saying it wasn't often she got to "give her heaps" about going out with a g - at which point she stopped talking and stared ahead.

'I'm sorry I don't drive,' Jesse grimaced, noting her heels and how they mustn't exactly be a joy to walk in.

She shrugged serenely. 'That's okay. I like walking with you.'

Whether she'd meant the last two words to slip out, neither of them knew. But they had, and Jesse grinned to himself.

They continued on until they arrived at a place called the Coffee Clutch. Susannah assured Jesse that their drinks were to die for. Jesse only knew of one thing worth dying for so far, so he was quite curious.

Well, two. Father Dominic's chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream came in at a close second.

She ordered him a vanilla milkshake, and herself a hot chocolate. He beat her to pulling out a ten dollar bill to pay - donated by the local priest, of course - and felt ridiculously pleased with himself when she finally gave in and let him. At the table, she asked him questions... so _many_ questions. She wanted to know everything about him. Many things he had to fabricate, and he felt terrible, but he didn't lie that much. Mostly, he embellished the truth of his past, telling her he'd grown up on a ranch, but had had a...disagreement with his father over about his future plans, and they'd parted on less than amicable terms. He told her he was nearly twenty years old, even if a hundred and seventy would have been a little closer to the truth. And halfway through, he stopped, and refused to tell her any more.

_'My_ turn,' he grinned.

When their drinks finally came, he let his sit there because he was still too preoccupied with asking her any question he could think of – her favourite colour and why, her most prized possession, ('A poem my dad wrote for me before he died,' she said, and then blushed. 'It's kind of silly…it's not very good,' before reciting it,) her favourite scent, ('The smell of rain…it always makes me feel just…in the moment, you know?') and every other possible thing that came to him. As she was answering his question about her least favourite day of the week, ('_Definitely_ Monday. The end of a weekend, with an entire week of school to look forward to, which means a rude shock when you have to get up at _six thirty_,' she said, scandalised, 'And don't get me _started _on Monday assemblies where they...') he absently took a sip of his vanilla milkshake –

'_Nombre de Dios!_' he half-shouted.

She stopped talking, blinking in shock. 'W-what?'

He stared in awe at the chilly cup he held in his hands, slick with condensation. That beverage had to have been the _best_ thing he'd _ever_ tasted. He spluttered, 'What's this again?'

A grin came to her face. 'You've never had a milkshake before?'

He shook his head.

She giggled. 'Well, milk…vanilla flavouring…malt…ice cream…'

'Aha!' he said victoriously, drinking the milkshake with a frenzied desire. 'Susannah. It is decided. I am in lovewith ice cream.'

'And ice cream is in love with your face,' she snickered, leaning across the table with a napkin in hand. Gently, she brushed it over the corner of his mouth…

And it happened _again_. They both froze, losing all awareness of time and space.

Finally, it was Susannah who broke the spell. 'If you haven't tried ice cream before,' she said conversationally, sliding back into talking mode with astounding ease, 'Then I'm going to guess you haven't had a kebab.'

'A what?'

'Thought as much,' she said smugly. 'God. You're like a food virgin. It's great.'

He choked on his milkshake.

'And I look forward to stealing your food virginity,' Susannah tossed her head, before sliding out of the cubicle, hot chocolate in one hand and his wrist in the other. 'Come on. We're going kebabbing.'

'You just verbed a noun, you realise,' he said as she pulled him along.

'So did you,' she retorted. '"Verbed" isn't a verb, Jesse. Or a word.'

He smiled. Her flippant use of the English language was having an influence on his own. And not necessarily a bad one… Speaking of having an influence on him, her fingers enclosed around his wrist didn't feel too terrible either. She didn't even seem to notice when she slid her hand in his as they walked, sipping their respective beverages, which Jesse was still enjoying way too much to not be strange. When she'd finished her hot chocolate, she offhandedly glanced at her watch, and swore.

'Crap! The shop closes in ten minutes! I didn't realise it was already nine!'

And with a speed that staggered him, she yanked off her heels and grabbed his hand again, and suddenly they were both sprinting down the block, her dragging him behind. His heart rate soared from the movement, and he began breathing harder. It was exhilarating.

She turned the corner so unexpectedly that he almost fell into the trashcan on the side of the road, something that made her giggle sinisterly. Finally, she stopped, permitting him to also. They stood outside a little side store, panting heavily. 'God,' she wheezed. 'I run _fast_ when food's on the line, don't I? I think I left my heart back in San Francisco – and a couple of other vital internal organs I'll need later in life.'

Jesse, still high from the run, laughed harder than he'd intended at this. Still trying to catch her breath, Susannah quickly stepped up to the counter, asking the small Lebanese man at the check out if they were still open – and also adding that she'd just run three blocks to try and make it in time. He said that they were just closing, but wouldn't mind making a small order for a lady as pretty as her. Jesse glared at him, not knowing why.

Elbowing Jesse when he tried to pay, Susannah placed an order for two chicken döner kebabs, listing various other things she wanted on both of them, requesting extra "tabouli" on her own. Apprehensive at the strange names, Jesse just stared as the little man prepared them, passing the two wraps to her in separate bags. He gave her a hearty wink, and once again Jesse felt a surge of irritation, thankfully smothering the tiny growl of warning that burnt his throat.

The store closed immediately after, and Susannah beamed at Jesse as he began eating. Once again, his taste buds were in a certain euphoria that only flavour could provide. He hungrily devoured it, forgetting he had an audience. 'It's…so good,' he said thickly through a mouthful of pita bread and chicken. 'Kebab, you say?'

Munching happily on her own, Susannah nodded. 'I'm glad you eat like a pig,' she said. 'It means I'm allowed to around you too.'

He laughed loudly again. She always made him laugh…

After they were both done eating, Susannah bit her lip. 'We should probably start heading back home… it's going to rain.'

Jesse looked up at the sky. There were heavy clouds, sure, but they didn't look like they would break just yet. However, she assured him differently, saying she could smell it. So they began walking.

'I'm not due back for another two hours,' she complained. 'Stupid weather and my lack of a car. Although…combined, those two things sound pretty dangerous. Especially with me in the equation.'

'You're probably not as bad a driver as you make out,' he said fairly. 'I _was_ standing in the middle of the road, _querida_.'

Once again startled by this word, she stopped completely. A cool breeze tossed her chestnut curls. She stared at him curiously. Her heartbeat quickened as thoughts started rushing through her head at the sight of Jesse de Silva in the moonlight. He really was just…something out of a dream. And since it was about to rain, it wouldn't be a _dry_ one either.

Jesse raised an eyebrow at her unanticipated silence. 'Did I lose you?' he queried, his grin a little lopsided. Susannah just shook her head, feeling a little faint.

'No, I…'

Trailing off absurdly, she dragged a hand down her face. 'Sorry,' she mumbled. 'I guess this is all just…'

'Fast?' Jesse winced. It was just as he'd feared…though certainly not unexpected.

The heavens broke, and water began trickling lightly down. Droplets flecked Susannah's face as she continued to stare at him, transfixed by her own bemusement and the utter perfection of his face. She couldn't understand where he'd had _come_ from. One moment, she'd just been going to high school like a normal _almost_-seventeen-year-old girl, shooing away Paul Slater and trying not to flunk Math. And then her car had struck this…god. And now she couldn't think straight.

'No,' she said softly, moving closer even though her brain hadn't sanctioned such movement. Her body had a mind of its own though. She touched his arms. 'I mean, yes…but…'

The rain increased to a heavy shower at that point, the fabric of their outfits beginning to soak through. The rain made the streets shimmer with a silver glow, a perfectly disturbed surface from the constant hammering rain. Jesse's mouth went dry. She was touching his arms now.

'Is it just me?' she asked him, her fingers on his arms beginning to chill. 'Tell me if it is. I just…I haven't _felt_ like this before…'

'It's not just you,' he promised her. His hands were suddenly at her waist.

Her gaze fell from his and she shook her head from side to side, her hands roguishly sliding to his chest. She laughed in awe of her own boldness. 'I just…don't know how this _happened_,' she gasped. 'And I don't understand everything that…being around you makes me feel…'

He gulped at her sudden proximity, consumed by her. The rain grew even heavier, drenching his hair. Trickles ran down his neck, and he was unsure which was causing the thrills to shoot down his spine: her or the rain? He pulled her closer to him, and she breathed in sharply at the contact. He was so warm…

Had he ever been capable of this kind of heat as a ghost? Surely not. He felt like he was standing in fire, and the sinuous flames were curling around him, licking his skin. It contrasted so sharply with his years of cold numbness. He felt that if he could die burning, he suddenly wouldn't mind...

It still scared him though.

'You barely know me, _querida_...' Jesse whispered, his lips touching her moist forehead. It would have been difficult to hear his low voice over the driving rain, but her energy was so in tune with him, so focused, that she could have heard him _blink_ if she'd put her mind to it. She breathed in deeply, smelling only him at the rain, and mentally she had to wonder if she'd answered the question about her favourite scent honestly... Perhaps she'd have to update her response.

'I don't care,' she said, resting her face against his neck, brushing the tip of her nose along his throat. His knees locked from the sensation. Could he have ever imagined her feeling this good?

And then, she'd looked up again, her eyes closing against the pelting rain and her mouth drifting up towards his -

- When suddenly, all the car alarms in the street suddenly sounded shrilly, including the one they stood beside. Susannah yelped, jolting away from Jesse and looking around her wildly. The entire road was lined with flashing, screaming cars, as if incensed by their intentions. Jesse was still frozen in place from when she'd been about to kiss him for a few moments, before realising the opportunity had died.

_'Mierda_,' he sighed, kicking himself for once again taking so long to act.

When Susannah's heart had finally resumed its beating after the shock of noise and lights, she turned back to Jesse sheepishly. 'I think fate's against us tonight,' she laughed sadly, squeezing his fingers in her own. Her hair was utterly soaked, as was her dark dress which clung wetly to her slight figure. Jesse struggled to look away, feeling disrespectful for scrutinising her so.

She caught his gaze, however, and really didn't seem to be bothered by it, if the crimson flush of her cheeks indicated anything at all.

'Let me walk you home,' he said, a little defeated, before noticing her quivering in the rain. 'Oh - here.' He then removed his jacket, and wrapped it around her shoulders. He didn't want to see Father Dominic's scandalised expression when he saw what he'd let the priceless garment become in the rain.

Susannah's shivers weren't from the chill alone, however. They had more to do with the disappointment that her body was experiencing, after anticipating finally being in his arms, the way she'd wanted to be all night.

'Thank you,' she mumbled, burying herself within its warmth.

-** A f t e r G l o w - **

As they began walking away, Paul kicked at the hubcap of a nearby Volvo in fury - it didn't make a difference, since the car alarm was already shrieking into the night.

'That was_way_ too freaking close!' he snapped at nothing in particular.

How had this game gone so spectacularly wrong? How was she falling for this loser at such astounding speed? He just couldn't understand it. He obviously had nothing - he was living off the charity of the local parish, for Christ's sake! What did this nobody have that he didn't? His heartbeat was permanent, and he wasn't thirty years off his bicentennial. Not to mention, he had a car, which would mean no rain, therefore he wouldn't be letting Susannah get all wet - not unless the occasion called for it, of course.

So why him?

Why was she standing on dark street corners in the pouring rain with him? Why had it taken thirty wailing cars to stop them from kissing? It was only the first day! Going at this rate, Jesse would have her saying those words within the hour!

That couldn't be allowed to happen. He'd have to stop just sabotaging him. He'd have to start redirecting her affections.

He'd never lost a deal before. And he wasn't about to change that now.

Grimly, he decided he'd have to become a lot more active in this game, if he wanted to come out on top.

- **A f t e r G l o w - **

Please review!

Love Lolly.


	5. Pretty Nasty Twist of Fate

-** A f t e r G l o w - **

Susannah had been singing all morning.

She had never sung very often, so it was hard to ignore the sweet hums and lines that echoed from her room. She'd tidied her room up, preparing for when Jesse stopped by - since she'd invited him over last night after their disastrous attempt at a first kiss. Summoning him over with the bogus promise of "watching a movie," she fully intended to get the job done properly this time if it was the last thing she did. Even her skin felt like it was singing, glowing softly in the dim light of the rainy morning. She wasn't entirely sure what she was feeling, but she didn't want to analyse it too much - she'd just allow her hormones to run rampant as they pleased.

So when there was a knock at her bedroom door come eleven o'clock, she grinned, jumping to her feet and racing over to grant entry to -

'Hello,' said Paul Slater politely.

Susannah's face fell. 'Oh...' she muttered. 'Uh, hi.'

Vexation marred his features for only a split second before a grin once again graced his face. 'Can I come in?'

Blinking quickly, she stepped back, flooded with guilt.

'I was just wondering where you were yesterday,' his face creased with concern. 'I was at the library for two hours...'

'Oh!' she lied dramatically, banging her hand against her forehead. 'Duh, Suze! Rehearsal. I completely forgot, Paul. I'm really sorry–'

He wandered casually over to her mantle, boredly picking up a snow-globe, rotating it and allowing the glitter to fall down gently. She vaguely suspected that he knew she was lying, which only made her feel worse. There was no way she was going to admit it, though. The key to a good lie was to indignantly fight it all the way, no matter how caught out she got. She arranged her face into a sad, regretful expression. He too was an excellent liar, pretending to be completely convinced by her claims.

'I thought as much,' he shrugged, replacing the snow-globe. He turned back to Susannah, eyeing her carefully. She tried not to blink, for this would surely communicate her guilt. 'So I was gonna suggest we ran through it now. The assignment, I mean. I read over your analysis of the scene, by the way. It's pretty good, if not a little...shallow.'

She looked away. 'Sorry. We're not all as smart as you Paul.'

'No,' he said quickly, 'I only meant...well, you didn't really seem to be channelling the character when you wrote it. It's very detached. So maybe if we ran through the scene - I'm hoping you've finally got your lines down by now–'

_'Yes_,' she said crisply.

'–maybe you could get a better grasp of the undertones of that particular exchange,' he went on, staring out the window dully.

She nodded. 'Okay, whatever.'

Pleased that she was going along with this - that is to say, not telling him to get out here and now - Paul gave her a cordial smile with an underlying omen. He began rattling off his opening monologue without flaw, with perfect dramatic timing, pausing only to arrogantly explain a metaphor or phrasing that he hadn't expected Susannah to have understood to its maximum potential. Offended but too nonchalant to start an argument over it - since Paul was always right, according to Paul - Susannah just sat on her desk, nodding as he treated her like a simpleton. Finally, her lines came up and she began saying them with surprising ease. Her practising with Jesse had certainly paid off. Even Paul's eyebrow rose, impressed.

'Not bad, Simon,' he offered. _'O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?'_

She simpered, a little more sarcastically than polite. _'What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?'_

_'The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine,'_ he quoted, scoffing.

'Such a drama queen...' Susannah rolled her eyes.

Paul's mouth quirked. 'Side effect of being in a drama, I suppose. Now, Suze, you realise at this point that where Romeo's character is mentally?'

'In Juliet's pants,' Susannah quipped.

'Well, that too,' Paul granted. 'But the whole pace of this scene - and even the rest of the play - relied on Romeo just happening to hear Juliet professing her love for him. A pretty nasty twist of fate, wouldn't you agree, since they both end up dying?'

Suze nodded. 'All right.'

'Well,' Paul went on, sitting beside her on the desk, a little too close for Susannah's comfort. His thumb brushed her thigh, and she tensed, looking determinedly at the wall. 'Juliet is trying to be the rational one here, using her head to suss out where she stands with him, while Romeo is obviously thinking with another part of his anatomy entirely...'

She gave him an irritated look. 'I got that already, Paul.'

'But,' he persevered, turning towards her further, 'Don't you think everything would have worked out better if Juliet hadn't said she loved him so soon? It just moved too quickly, don't you reckon? If she'd just waited, then the two of them wouldn't have gone all suicidal in the end. She lost that rationality that she'd had at the start...'

Susannah froze, and Paul, internally of course, grinned wickedly. He'd hit the precise nerve that he'd been so carefully aiming for, without her realising it.

'It was never going to work out between them anyway,' he went on. 'Romeo's love isn't exactly eternal. He's a fickle little douche bag at the best of times. And no matter how much he promised her he loved her...how could she really be sure in such a small space of time? It's pretty stupid, really.'

She got up off of the desk, wandering over to her window. The rain continued to pour down without mercy. She didn't feel like singing anymore.

In fact, she felt like she couldn't breathe properly.

Paul may have been an asshole, but he was perceptive and unfortunately, wise, or so it appeared. What he'd said had really bothered her. She was taking this too fast. She'd known Jesse just over a day, and already, he was all she could think about.

Thoughts of Jesse overwhelmed every part of her being, and she barely knew anything about him. Sure, they'd exchanged private details over drinks at the Coffee Clutch the night before, but that was nothing. And how did she know what she was feeling was even real? Her entire body heated up in his presence, her face flushed, her heart quickened, her eyes glazed over as the spell worked its magic on her, and she couldn't hear anything but him; couldn't see or feel anything beyond Jesse de Silva...

It wasn't healthy.

She needed to just...stop. And think about things.

Or she'd end up like the once intelligent Juliet, turned positively stupid by love.

Paul came to stand behind her. In her ear, he whispered, _'O blessed, blessed night... I am afeard, being in night, all this is but a dream, too flattering-sweet to be substantial._ He even knows its too surreal to be happening. But he just keeps going. Juliet was the one who had to slow him down. And she tried...but he just kept _pushing_...'

Susannah blinked quickly, watching the rain hit her window forcefully whenever the wind blew it her way, the droplets meandering erratically down the pane. She felt cold...

Warm hands crept to her arms. She flinched at the subtle shock of them, but their heat felt too welcomed to be scolded. Slowly, he turned her to face him, his eyes smouldering down at her. Susannah mouth parted to say something - she had no idea what - but then, gently, Paul's lips brushed against hers.

Her stomach plummeted and she gasped. A certain electricity shot down her spine, but it was ruined by the overarching knowledge that this was very, very wrong.

'No–' she frowned, but his hands had tightened around her arms, dragging her against him firmly as his mouth collided fully with her own. She could barely remember her own name. All her anticipations for her first kiss, which had been denied rudely the night before, were being realised by the wrong person - but they were still being realised. Confused and upset, she didn't have the thought process to pull away. All she could do was react to how this kiss, however unwanted, was making her feel.

Within moments, she felt her back being pressed against the freezing glass of her window and she cringed at the sharp sensation, which brought some sense back to her. 'Paul,' she stammered, 'What are–'

But his lips, hot and thrilling had dropped to her throat and she bit her lip in shock, her fingers - which had been about to push him away - clawing suddenly to pull him closer.

...What on earth was she doing?

She absolutely hated this boy. He was...rude, and egotistical, and thought far too highly about his ability to have anything he wanted -

But if he kissed like this, she thought, she wasn't surprised he felt this way.

Although...hadn't he just warned her against losing her rationality? Wasn't this...doing the same thing?

Roughly, she shoved him away, panting. 'What the hell was that for?' she snapped. 'That's - that's not even in the scene!'

His eyes narrowed. 'I _know_ you liked it.'

Clutching her buzzing neck with both hands as if protecting it from a pack of vampires, she struggled to get her breath under control. 'No, I - you really shouldn't have - I didn't...'

She felt angry and bewildered, but couldn't recognise which was more potent at the current time. Paul just continued to stare at her intensely, waiting for her to decide so he knew which to react to. If she was angry, he needed to manipulate her some more. If she was bewildered, well...she was as good as his.

The moment she turned away in perplexity, he made his move, pressing her back against the window pane and kissing her deeply. When he felt her hands about to push him again, his fingers snaked around her wrists and he pressed them too against the wall either side her head, relishing her shivers as he intensified his efforts –

'What is...'

The voice that had appeared was deeply taken aback. '..._Susannah_?'

If anything could bring the hormonal, bemused girl back to reality, it was the sudden appearance of Jesse at her door. Instantly, she shouted fearfully, focusing all of her sudden energy into heaving Paul Slater _far_ away from her.

And Jesse's world shook violently.

He'd thought things had been...going so _well_. That it was almost too good to be true.

It obviously had been.

His heart didn't feel as alive anymore. In fact, it felt rather damaged.

Jesse he turned on his heel, and without another word, left.

-** A f t e r G l o w - **

Ouch.

Stay tuned, folks. Don't forget to stop by and review!


	6. Courage in Liquid Form

-** A f t e r G l o w - **

From beyond the clouds that had choked the sky all day, the sun had finally managed a cameo as it sank gradually, casting a warm brilliance across the ocean_. This time tomorrow_, Jesse thought dismally as he gazed at the sunset, _all this will be over._

He'd been a fool. He still didn't understand exactly what he'd walked in on...all he knew was, he'd taken too long. And Susannah had obviously not approved. He'd been so careful to pace everything, not to rush her...not realising that that was what she'd desired. And in hesitation, another had swept in.

He sat on the end of the old wooden jetty at the Carmel shore, sagged against the wooden pillar, one knee pulled up to his chest while the other leg dangled uselessly over the edge. He hated his new heart. He wanted to rip it out and never again ask for it again. He didn't blame Susannah for kissing another. He loved her too much to be furious with any betrayal on her part. Besides...it wasn't as if he'd really had her to begin with. They'd had a flirtation, certainly. What more could he have hoped for in three days?

He regretted making this deal.

Slowly, he heard footsteps approaching the end of the jetty. He didn't bother to look up. He knew Susannah's light, quick steps of by heart...and this wasn't her. He just continued to stare out at the ocean sadly, bathing in the thick, damp air.

'Er...Jesse?'

He turned his head, and instantly, a curl of rage flickered with life. There, hands in his pockets, stood Paul Slater, the one whose arms his querida had been in...

Climbing to his feet, he surrendered himself over to his anger. 'Leave,' he ordered.

Paul just sighed. 'Look. I just wanted to explain–'

'Why you kissed her?' Jesse spat. 'Why you chose her, of all the girls in this town, the one that I'm in _love_ with, to–'

'Dude! She kissed _me!_ Would you just listen?' Paul snapped, but Jesse refused. Instead, he opted for a better method in showing Paul Slater his complete disinterest in "listening."

His fist, unrestrained, was launched into Paul's stomach with such astounding force that the boy was knocked clean off the jetty, crashing into the water six feet below. Jesse stood on the edge, glaring fiercely down at the small whirlpool that had been created from Paul's splash. Fury pumped through him madly like he could barely remembered. Life intensified his emotions tenfold. He remembered a cold bitterness towards his murderer in the months after he'd died, but it hadn't tasted _anything_ like this.

Feeling the real truth of these black emotions, he decided, could only be managed with blood.

Resurfacing finally, Paul spluttered up a lungful of water. 'What did you go and do _that_ for?!' he cried in aggravation. 'Jesus Christ! God, Suze was right - you _are_ a drama queen.'

Jesse stopped. '...Susannah has told you about me?'

Climbing angrily back up the ladder on the side of the jetty with saturated clothes and a foul expression, Paul said, 'Yeah. Totally. She said you were taking your role of Romeo a little too seriously, rushing in too fast...'

Pained by this, Jesse spun away, not wishing to listen. His misery was returning with a vengeance, overshadowing the now dwindling anger.

'You're losing her, you know,' Paul endured, grabbing a large portion of his shift and twisting it so the water trickled out of it. 'You know the only way you're going to get her back?'

Turning his head to the side, Jesse demanded, 'How?'

With an innocently sincere face, Paul advised him, 'Just tell her the truth. You can't keep lying to her about what you are...'

'Why should I trust you?' Jesse said coldly. 'I walk in on you, kissing mi querida, and now you expect me to–'

Paul sighed impatiently. 'I only went around to help you, Jess. You know...see how into you she was,' he explained in a calm voice. 'And it just...got out of hand. I'm sorry. I didn't think she'd jump me like that.' Seeing Jesse's misery at this words made him struggle to suppress a smirk of delight. This ghost was just eating this up...

'Tell her everything,' Paul said. 'It's your last chance.'

Jesse frowned. 'What if she does not believe me?'

'Of course she will!' Paul argued, utterly convinced of his own statement.

'I don't want to frighten her...' Jesse despaired.

With an utterly straight face, Paul replied, 'I'll bet you any money that, after a couple of seconds to process, she'll think it's all so romantic, and she'll say those words you've been wanting to hear...' He came to stand before Jesse, his eyebrows raised. 'And you won't have to die again this time tomorrow. Isn't it worth a shot?'

'But...she was kissing _you_...' Jesse said in pained disgust.

Paul winced a little. 'Well, you didn't exactly pick the _cleanest_ girl in Carmel to crush on, if you know what I mean,' he told him delicately. Jesse flushed furiously. 'Just go and convince her you're the guy for her. Tell her how you always protected her...how you watched her sleep... chicks dig that crap.'

When Jesse still looked hesitant, Paul dug a fist into his bag, pulling out a silver flask and tossing it over. 'Here. Have some of that.'

'What is this?'

'Courage,' Paul grinned. 'In _liquid_ form.'

'..._Oh_,' Jesse said, comprehending. He untwisted the lid and took a long swig, before screwing up his face.

'Yeah, courage kind of tastes like shit,' Paul agreed. Jesse nodded a little weakly.

'All right...' he said. 'I'll go and...tell her the truth.'

Paul clapped him on the back proudly. 'Good on you, Jess. Personally, I hope you win this deal. It's always great to have a bit more love in this world. Now, go get her, tiger!'

With a resolved nod, Jesse ran fast off the jetty, up the sand dunes, and out of sight.

As soon as he was utterly out of sight, Paul lost his poker face, collapsed on the wooden surface, laughing uproariously.

'...What...an..._idiot!_' he cracked up. 'Oh, God. This is just _way_ too entertaining.' It had been so easy! Fools in love really were the most easily manipulated idiots in the world. If he'd thought that Susannah had been a piece of cake, she was nothing compared to Jesse. Sure, Paul was now drenched after being sent flying into the ocean, but other than that, it had gone without a hitch.

With a victory cry in his heart, Paul sneered in Jesse's direction. There was no way Susannah would believe anything he said. Ghosts? Resurrection? Paul would have given _anything_ to watch him try, but it was too risky. No... All he could do was wait for the _magnificent_ failure as Jesse was turned away.

- **A f t e r G l o w -**

Susannah was sitting on her porch, clutching at her hands when Jesse appeared before her. With a gasp, she flew to her feet. 'Jesse,' she spluttered, 'I'm so sorry, I can't believe I - it just...happened, and I feel _terrible_, but I... I understand if you don't–'

'Susannah,' he said clearly. 'I need to be honest with you.'

His "courage" was certainly working - that is to say, he was having less time in his head to filter what he wanted to actually tell her. This may have worked against him in the near future, but he didn't have the foresight at the current time to be looking so far ahead.

She bit her lip. 'I'm _really sorry._..' she whispered.

'Can we go somewhere a little more...secluded?' he requested. Nodding emphatically, she pulled him inside, up the stairs to her room. The rain had stopped now, and the sun had set. He had less time than he thought... only one more day.

Now sitting nervously on her bed, Susannah was staring at him with a scared, alert expression. She didn't look like she expected much forgiveness for her complete lack of convictions. She couldn't think of anything to say to him. She really hadn't known what had happened to her - and oh, the look on his face when he'd caught them...

'I may have...' Jesse began slowly, trying to calm himself. He wanted to be sitting beside her, holding her hands and looking her in the eye as he said all of this, but he was too agitated to sit still, which really wasn't aiding his delivery. 'I may have been a little...flippant with the truth about me yesterday, Susannah. Something I hope that you can forgive.'

At these words, the fear washed from her face. Jesse wanted forgiveness? From her?

That was...unexpected.

Overcoming her initial confusion, she realised the weight of his words. He had something to tell her - something he'd lied to her about before this.

'What is it?' she asked in a small voice.

Deciding that, agitated or not, he needed to connect with her in order for her to believe him, he sat down beside her as planned, carefully holding her hands. That element of fear had returned to her face. This was not going well.

'Susannah,' he said. 'This is...going to be hard to believe. And I am perfectly aware of how insane and...disconcerting it may sound. But...well, you once asked how old I was.'

'You said nineteen,' she said firmly. 'Nearly twenty.'

'I said that, yes,' he sighed. 'Although...I've been around a _lot_ longer than that.'

She frowned. '...Been around? What's that supposed to mean?' She laughed suddenly. 'You're not a vampire, are you? Because I read that book, and I gotta say, I think the werewolf is a _much_ better option–'

He stared. 'And if I happened to say yes, how would you react to that?'

'You're not a vampire,' she smiled kindly.

'No, er, I'm not,' he admitted. 'But I am...something. And it's that part that you may find...difficult to comprehend, Susannah.'

'It can't be that bad. What are you? Leprechaun? Unicorn? Demon-spawn?' She paused. '..._Republican_?'

He shook his head, getting aggravated again. She wasn't taking this seriously. He hadn't expected her to, but he'd hoped...

He looked back into her eyes, and her smile faded to an expression of far more seriousness. 'Jesse,' she said evenly. 'Is...everything okay? I mean...whatever it is, you can tell me.'

This was heartening. He inhaled deeply, and took the plunge.

'Susannah, I'm...I _was_...dead,' he said.

She grinned. 'Undead?'

'No,' he uttered. 'Just dead.'

She blinked, her brows furrowing a little. She flexed her hands inside his a little awkwardly. 'What do you mean?' she asked him. 'Did you have one of those near death experience thingies? Because I've heard that they're–'

'I was _very_ dead,' Jesse cut her off.

She wasn't understanding. She withdrew her hands, repositioning herself on the mattress to stare at him properly. 'I don't follow, Jesse. Just...say what you want to say.'

'I'm trying,' he muttered, frustrated. And then, it all just came tumbling out. 'Susannah, I was born in 1830. When I was nearly twenty years of age, my father arranged a marriage between me and my cousin Maria. On the way to this wedding, I stopped at a boarding house - _this_ boarding house, in fact - and was met with Maria's lover, who murdered me. I have been waiting in this room for over a century as a ghost, and then when you–' he broke of breathlessly, took a gulp of air, and continued, 'When you came, I tried to leave, but I couldn't... I haunted you without you ever realising. And now I'm alive, here with you, but–'

'You were going to marry your _cousin_?' she demanded, horrified.

Praying for a little patience, he looked back into her eyes. 'Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, Susannah?' he said. 'Two days ago...I was a ghost.'

These words finally seemed to stump her.

'No, you weren't,' she shook her head. 'You can't remember where you were, you told me. You said that you–' She stopped, struck with inspiration. 'Oh my God, did I do this to you? When I hit you with the car, I mean. God, I must have really rattled your brain–'

'But–' he spluttered. However, now she just looked stressed about the mental injury she'd inflicted upon him. 'Susannah, you're not–'

'I mean, who knows how long it's going to take for you to recover from it? God, I really am _never_ driving that car again–'

He stood up suddenly, breathing hard. 'I've haunted this room for the three months you've been here, Susannah.' Words just tumbled out of his mouth, and he couldn't seem to stop them or refine them in any way. 'I've watched you. I've tried to...but you were just so beautiful, and kind, and _sweet_, how could I have not–'

He shook his head. 'That's not what I meant. I know that every night before you go to bed, you brush your hair and then tie it up loosely, so you don't wake up with a headache. I know when you talk to your friend CeeCee on the phone, you always end with the word, "_Toodles_." I know you cry when you watch the film about the ship Titanic on the television. And I know,' he ended heavily, 'That when you talk in your sleep, you have conversations with your father.'

Her eyes were enormous orbs of shock as she stared up at him, her shoulders tensed. She tried to speak, but her voice had vanished.

'It was wrong,' Jesse sighed. 'But Susannah, I loved you from the moment I saw you...'

Finally, she was able to talk.

'You...' she began. It still sounded rusty. She swallowed, breathed, and tried again. 'You've been _spying_ on me...?'

Jesse's righteous tenacity flickered away as he comprehended these words. 'What? No! Susannah, I always granted you every privacy you deserved - for I respected you too much to–'

She stood up, stepping away from him urgently. Her expression was outraged. She hugged her arms around herself, utterly violated. Her gaze darted at the floor all around her, and her mind spun. This...stranger, knew things about her. _Private_ things. Things she hadn't wanted _anyone_ to know. Not only was it _very_ embarrassing to secretly be in love with the movie Titanic, but...sleep-talking to her father? Only her mother knew about that. This...man, had been in her room at night. He'd been watching her, hiding away.

Susannah feared she was going to be sick. She backed away from him further, her eyes snapping back to his.

'Get out,' she spat.

Looking devastated, he shook his head. 'Susannah, no–'

'Get _out_ of my room, you _creep_!' she shrieked, stamping her foot. 'I'm sure you won't have too much trouble, since it's obviously never been a problem breaking _in_!'

'I'm telling the truth!' he tried to explain, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but she wouldn't hear of it.

She shoved him back roughly. 'If you _touch_ me, I will scream.'

Her eyes glimmered in terror and disgust. Jesse retreated, lowering his hand sadly.

The truth had just condemned him to the label of "Creep."

He sighed.

'I'm sorry...' he whispered. His throat tightened furiously, and he struggled to remain collected - or as collected as he could manage now that his second change had been wasted. 'I...love you, Susannah. But - I'll go.'

'You had better,' she snarled. 'If I see you around here _ever_ again, I swear, I will make you wish you'd _stayed_ dead.'

The sarcasm in her voice was sparkling. She didn't believe him. Not in the slightest.

Leaving quickly, he walked past a smiling Mrs. Ackerman, asking him if he was going to stay for dinner. He politely declined, and said goodnight. Once out in the now darkening street, several houses away from Susannah's, he realised he could scarcely breathe. His lungs felt so tight all of a sudden, like his heart had been seized by an iron claw which was constricting with more and more brutal force as the seconds went by. He clutched at his chest, gasping for air.

He'd ruined _everything_.

Grabbing the silver flask in his pocket, he roared as he pitched it into the endless night. He didn't see where it had landed, and he didn't care. He'd lost her. He'd lost her forever. She thought he was some insane, obsessive stalker who knew too much personal details about her. He'd _terrified_ her.

She never wanted to see him again.

Oh, what a horrendous Romeo he'd turned out to be...

His despair made every part of him ache, once again intensified beyond anything he'd ever felt as a dead man. He journeyed miserably back to the Carmel Mission, dreading the disappointment on Father Dominic's face as he confessed how he'd royally blundered his one chance at love.

More than anything, he prayed that his second death would come quickly.

Waiting for sunset on the third day would be unbearable...

**- A f t e r G l o w -**

Watching discretely from behind a tree in the lawn of the neighbouring house, Paul Slater smirked.

It was fairly safe to say that he'd won this deal.

…Not that he'd been in any danger of losing, of course. It had been a _little_ touch-and-go, but he'd always been faithful in his sociopathic abilities. Enjoying this game far too much to be healthy, he smirked up at the window of Susannah Simon as, crying hard, she tugged the blinds closed firmly to avoid any more unwelcome spectators.

**- A f t e r G l o w -**

Ouch.

_Again_.

Love Lolly.


	7. The Subject of Payment

**- A f t e r G l o w -**

'It's...probably for the best, Jesse.'

Father Dominic was usually good at comforting people in their hours of darkness. It was his vocation, after all. However, this time, his heart really wasn't in it. He stared at the poor man sitting before him, and he felt exhausted for him. He would have had to have been blind - and additionally, incredibly stupid on that, since many more blind people are capable of seeing the obvious than sighted - to not know that Jesse had just had his heart broken.

It was a new heart, too. An inexperienced one that had only had one real chance at happiness.

He couldn't tell the man that in time, his wounds would heal; that he would find another. Even if Jesse _had_ been able to die another day, there was simply no way he could ever love anyone but Susannah. Unsure about how he felt, regarding a lovesick man and one of his pupils, Father Dominic therefore resorted to clichéd words of comfort.

He drew the line at telling him there was plenty more fish in the sea.

Jesse did not want to talk. It was strange - a hundred and fifty years of absolute solitude should have made him sick to death of loneliness...and yet, it was all he craved at the moment. He sat on Father Dominic's couch, feeling cold and damaged. With a tired look, he sighed. 'Go to bed, _Padre_. Do not let me keep you awake...'

'Dear boy, it is your last night of life,' the Father emphasised. 'Surely you do not want to waste, it just sitting–'

Jesse's eyes snapped up to the priests firmly. Father Dominic blinked, retreating. He sighed sympathetically.

'I'm sorry, Jesse... I had hoped that - but I suppose it just wasn't meant to be.'

_Just like the star-crossed lovers_, Jesse thought morbidly. Fate had been against them from the very start. And the timing of everything...it had all lead to their ultimate undoing.

At least they'd had the luxury of more than three days. This was so unfair. How could he have ever expected to win Susannah's pure heart in such a short time, while also being honest with her? She was too intelligent to be fooled instantly by his ghost stories. At the same time though, he almost didn't regret telling her the truth. Of course, a little more sophistication in his delivery may have helped matters a little, but the bottom line was that she had deserved to hear the truth from the one who loved her.

He'd done all he could.

...It just wasn't enough.

Heaving a laboured breath, Father Dominic sadly bid Jesse goodnight, and went to bed.

The ex-ghost - and soon to be ghost again - sat in the dim yellow lamplight of the priest's sitting room, staring at the opposite wall. He'd hated scaring Susannah like that...and seeing the look in her eyes when she believed him mad and deranged had torn him apart. He didn't blame her, though. He'd said the most ridiculous things. Watching her? Knowing about her sleep-talking? Who _wouldn't_ have been deeply unsettled by that kind of information?

He knew he should have headed off to the guest room, but he couldn't sleep. He'd been out of the habit for so long that last night had felt strange...and so lonely. Heaving another sigh, he sank down further into the couch morosely. It was going to be a long night.

...This thought was interrupted by a harsh knocking on the door.

Jesse frowned, wondering whether to go get the priest. However, a soft snoring from Father Dominic's bedroom told him that it wasn't the best time. Slowly, he went to the door and pulled it open, preparing to tell the visitor that the Father was very much so asleep -

'...Jesse,' Susannah said breathlessly.

His stomach plummeted.

Once again, the rain had been coming down in sheets. He saw a bike leant recklessly against the brickwork and realised with a start that she'd ridden over through the downpour. Her hair was ringing wet, curling wetly around her shiny face. She was shivering, but appeared too frazzled to notice. Without waiting for an invitation, she slipped past him into the warmth.

'Where's Father Dominic?' Susannah asked.

Disappointment swarmed Jesse. She was here to see him, for whatever reason. 'Oh...er, he's asleep, I believe.'

'Good,' she nodded.

Susannah appeared almost as agitated as he'd been earlier that day. She paced around the room, touching things on Father Dominic's mantle absently, breathing in a heavy manner. Finally, she admitted, 'I don't even know why I'm here...'

Jesse raised an eyebrow. 'Yes, you're really taking the fun out of my stalking you.'

She glared. 'That's not funny.'

'No,' he agreed. 'It isn't.'

With a sigh - something she'd be doing a great deal of in the next ten minutes - she picked up a bible from the knee-high coffee table, flicking through it with unseeing eyes. 'You know,' she said, 'I thought a lot about what you said. And... you do realise how..._scary_ that was, right?'

His eyes closed painfully. 'I know. And I'm sorry.'

'To know that you've been watching me, I mean,' she added unnecessarily. Her breathing shuddered. 'And I guess that...it hurt me to know that someone I've...developed very intense feelings for...' her cheeks burned as the words passed her lips, and she stared at the pages of the bible with a fierce look, _'betrayed_ me like that.'

Jesse said nothing. As much as he wanted to argue with her word choice, it was fully understood how she could interpret it like that.

'I don't believe in ghosts,' her effervescent green eyes flashed up at him. 'I don't believe in _anything_ I can't see. But...'

She trailed off, sliding weakly down onto the edge of the couch.

'I see _you_,' she said softly. '...And although I didn't remember it at the time... I've seen you before.'

This, he had not expected.

With slow, careful movements designed to test how willing she was to be within ten feet of him, he cautiously sat down on the couch beside her, ensuring there was enough space between them so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable. She just stared at him helplessly from her end, still shivering.

'What do you mean?' he asked her.

She looked quickly back at her hands.

'...I've been having dreams about you,' she mumbled, an edge of panic in her voice as if she couldn't believe she was truly the source of these words. 'I didn't know who it was. I've been having them ever since I got here. Not every night,' she glanced up at him fleetingly. He was transfixed by this revelation. 'But...so often that it made me wonder if you were just...someone I'd met before, but couldn't remember in my waking state.'

Jesse's face was deadpan. He didn't know what to make of this.

'In my dreams,' she went on, her voice getting softer and calmer, 'You're glowing faintly...just out of my reach. I never knew your name...so when I called out for you, it was always something different. I'd try and guess,' she smiled a little. 'But you'd just shake your head, still just...hovering on the border of my mind.'

Susannah edged closer. 'Jesse...'

She said his name, not to call his attention, but as if she were finally answering a question that had been plaguing her for a very long time. She closed her eyes, her face going peaceful.

'This is absolutely insane...' she breathed serenely. 'To think that...the reason I'd dream about you was because you were right there with me, only visible when my eyes were closed. Even now, I can see you...'

She touched his face, her eyes fluttering open. 'I'm so sorry for not believing you, Jesse.'

'It's understandable...I sounded like a lunatic,' he told her dismissively. He didn't want to hear her apologies. How could he, when something far more wonderful than he could have ever hoped for was happening?

'You did,' she agreed, her voice becoming huskier as she moved closer still. Jesse's throat tightened as he felt her lips brush against his jaw softly, sending a jolt of pure lightning through his entire being. 'But I know who you are _now_, Jesse de Silva of 1830...'

And before either of them was fully conscious of it, she was kissing him with fiery spirit, pushing him flat against the couch as she crawled over him. He pulled her body further against his, forgetting all thoughts of decorum and restraint. How could thoughts as these be running through his mind when he was finally able to touch this heavenly creature? He ran his fingers through her wet hair, and she sighed loudly against his lips. 'Jesse, I...'

He froze beneath her, his ears sharpening. 'What is it, _querida_?'

...Was this it? Had she...

'I think I...'

He swallowed. _Hard_.

'...You know,' she mumbled. '...Feel a bit weird about making out when my principal is snoring in the next room. Can we - ?'

Recovering instantly from his deflation, Jesse sat up, scooping his arms beneath her as he kissed her neck, carrying her to the guest room.

'Of course.'

Well, he thought to himself, happier beyond all of possibility, if he died at that very moment, he would have been a very fulfilled man.

Laying her gently on the bed, he proceeded to show her what a terrible kisser Paul Slater was.

In comparison, of course.

**- A f t e r G l o w -**

Susannah had been soundly asleep for over an hour now, and still, Jesse could not stop staring in awe at her beauty... Her face was absolutely tranquil. She looked so pure and untouched, so very lovely in the darkness. He could barely tear his eyes away.

Never in his existence had he truly thought he'd ever get the chance to be holding her in his arms late at night. He'd had hopes, glimmers, and day dreams... but not this. Not in reality. Not where she could see and touch him, falling asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat and the rainstorm just beyond the window, which only increased his feelings of warmth. He pulled her closer, and she curled against him, resting her face in the crook of his neck. He could feel her soft breath...

He must have drifted off in the early hours, but not for very long. With a start, he woke with an intense feeling of unease. Susannah had moved - her back was now against his chest, and his arms were wrapped firmly around her. She was still breathing evenly, her hair splayed across the pillow.

But Jesse could not shake his sense of disquiet.

...Of course, the source of his anxieties was revealed when his blearily eyes suddenly felt a cold, hard gaze from the corner of the room. He stared longer, trying to distinguish the shape in the darkness. Not quite convinced he was imagining it, he narrowed his eyes to focus, when the dark figure suddenly took a step forward, catching a bar of moonlight.

Jesse's heart nearly self-combusted in alarm as he scrambled up to a sitting position, tugging the sleeping Susannah further against him protectively.

'What are _you_ doing here?' he growled, furious. How dare he..._intrude_ like this?!

Paul didn't reply. His gaze just fell to the girl in Jesse's embrace. Her shirt had been removed, as had Jesse's, and she only had her underwear on her upper body. With an indignant sound, Jesse pulled the covers up, saving her modestly. He had no right to stare like that.

'Get out,' Jesse spat heatedly, trying to be softly spoken so as not to rouse his _querida_. 'You have no right to be–'

'I have every right in the world,' Paul replied calmly, 'To be monitoring one of my deals. Seems things are progressing along here very nicely.' He managed a smile. Jesse stiffened, not trusting him for a moment. 'So sorry to have missed the show, Jesse. So, now… Fucked her yet?'

His blood _boiled_. He had to put actual effort into softening his hold, lest he wake Susannah - or crush her to death. He struggled to breathe calmly.

'I'll tell you one more time,' Jesse warned, his face like thunder. _'Get out_.'

Rather than heeding his very serious omen, Paul chuckled softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Jesse could barely contain his rage. 'You seem to be better at this than I gave you credit for. I thought last time I checked, she thought you were a psychopathic stalker. What ever happened to that?'

Jesse didn't bother answering; he only held Susannah closer, his glower intensifying. She frowned in her sleep, murmuring something incoherent against his collarbone.

'Well, obviously, she digs the Loony Tunes,' he rolled his eyes, irritated. 'That's just _great_.'

Stiffly, Jesse demanded, 'What do you want, Paul?'

This question made Paul Slater grin in a menacing way. He gave Jesse a droll look, and sighed. 'I thought it was time we discussed the subject of payment, since you're having such a grand time with my Suze.' His voice was barely audible, but Jesse could hear every bitter word. 'Of course, I had to wait until you _had_ a possession in order for you to pay me for my...kindness. And now you do.'

His gaze flickered to Susannah again, and Jesse gasped.

'You are out of your mind,' he snarled. 'She is _not_ a prize to be won!'

_'You_ did,' Paul pointed out, angry. 'That bothers me more than I'd like.'

Once again, Jesse battled long and hard against his rage before it awoke her completely. She was to know nothing of this deal.

Paul, appearing to be waging a similar war against revealing too much emotion, took a deep breath and calmed down once again. 'I apologise for snapping,' he nodded, a disturbing grin returning to his crooked lips, 'That was rude of me. What I also find rude,' his nostrils flared, 'Is how stupid little ghosts come to me with their pathetic little wishes which will never in a _million_ years come true, and against all odds they seem to be suddenly winning.' He shook his head in disbelief. 'Especially when they come requesting the girl that I've had my eye on for _months_ now, and just happen to have tricked her into falling for him. You can see how this would upset me, can't you Jesse?'

His jaw clenched hard. Susannah sighed, her fingers curling against his chest.

Glaring hard and throwing his efforts to conceal his anger to the howling wind outside, Paul said icily, 'At this rate, she's going to be telling you she loves you any minute now...'

'If that is how she feels,' Jesse said, 'Then you cannot stop her.'

Paul closed his eyes dreamily. 'Oh, but I can... I've decided to up the stakes, _Jesse_.'

He said the name with such hostility that Jesse flinched. Paul stood up, backing away. 'You were right in saying I can't stop how she feels,' he granted, tossing a hand frivolously in Susannah's direction. 'I can, however, stop her from _expressing_ such feelings.'

'You will not hurt her!' Jesse yelled, unable to keep his fury under control any longer. Susannah stirred in alarm, blinking wearily. 'Jesse...? What–'

'Why would I hurt my payment?' Paul laughed. 'Don't worry, she won't feel a thing...'

And suddenly, he fired a tiny bullet of light from his hand. It shot at Susannah, zooming into her mouth and down her throat. Still only just waking, she coughed and spluttered. Jesse, panicking, hit her on her back, trying to help her bring this mysterious object back up - but with a localised explosion of light, Susannah's hands shot to her throat in horror.

She tried to scream -

...But no sound came out.

Paul smirked, closing his fingers around the tiny orb as it settled back in his palm. 'Try getting her to say those fabulous words _now_. Or, you know… anything.'

'Give it back!' Jesse roared, launching off the bed at Paul, but the boy sneered and dodged him.

'Don't worry, I will. She'll be no fun if I can't hear her moaning my name,' he grinned crudely, and Susannah, confused and scared as she was, looked utterly furious. 'I think I'll give her voice back sometime tomorrow. What would you say to after sunset, Suze?'

She too stumbled off of the bed, uncaring that she wasn't exactly covered very well. Paul leered appreciatively, and Jesse stood before her. She tried mouthing something that appeared both insulting and livid, but Paul tapped his ear and pouted. 'Sorry, babe, didn't quite _catch_ that...'

And with a blue shimmer, he dematerialised from their presence.

Susannah, mute and panicked, spun around to face Jesse.

He couldn't understand exactly what she'd just said, but he got the general idea that it was along the lines of, 'What the_ HELL is going on?!_'

**- A f t e r G l o w -**

The plot thickens!

Yay… Always wanted a thick plot.

_Please review!_

P.S. Oh yeah…before you ask:

No. They didn't.


	8. The Monsignor Sleeps Here!

I'm aware that this update is about three years too late...

I reread this yesterday when I was out in the wilderness with nothing but my laptop and my sex-slave. Naturally, I chose to relive my glory years rather than to part these timid knees. Sex-slave watched the football while I reread one of my better experiments with the third person perspective. And I was pleasantly surprised to find that I really enjoyed what I'd come up with. Knowing, however, that I'd left this story unfinished, I grew anxious as I neared the abrupt end.

So, I've decided, I'm going to try to update it. I really am. Here's what is written so far – and it is very short. I'll try to keep writing. All I ask is that you please review. Give a girl a thrill in her old age!

All my love,

Lolly.

**- A f t e r G l o w -**

Jesse's heart was pounding faster than he could remember it beating in a very long time as he stared with wide eyes at the hysterical girl before him. Her silence was jarring. What had he done? He'd never wanted to bring her into this mess… He'd never wanted to put her in danger, or bring her to Paul Slater's attention.

'Susannah,' he tried to say soothingly, running his hands down her cool arms, but she just clutched at her throat, once again trying fruitlessly to speak. No sound would come out though.

Frantic, she began to mouth something to him – one word, over and over. Concentrating on her lips and the way her tongue curled beneath her teeth to form the end of the sound, he frowned. '…Ruth?'

She shook her head, and mouthed it with even more gusto.

'Truth!' he said, meriting a vigorous nod from Susannah. He sighed, and sat her down. She stared at him intensely, once again trying to speak but failing.

He told her all he could think of – about his deal with Paul Slater to return to this life for three days, in order to meet her. The only detail he avoided at all costs was her role in keeping him from dying. He would never have forced her to feel like that. When he was done, her face fell.

'I'm so sorry,' he whispered. 'I never meant for you to get hurt, _querida_…I shouldn't have ever involved you in this.'

Looking quickly back at him, she shook her head. He blinked, not realising he'd posed any kind of question. Frustrated with her terrible communication skills, she heaved a silent groan, before crawling to her knees on the bed, seizing his face between her hands and kissing him deeply.

Jesse was awed, to say the least.

He'd been positive that she would have really drawn the line here, not wanting anything further to do with him after he'd been so honest about the terrible chaos he'd dragged her into…and yet, her lips wordlessly told him otherwise. Appreciative of this unexpected loyalty, he returned her kiss tenderly. At last, she broke off, panting. She got off the bed, timidly pulling her shirt on. Jesse also stood, moving behind her and kissing her neck.

'You will get your voice back,' he promised, breathing in her ear. 'And Paul Slater won't _touch_ you – not if I have anything to do with it. If he is indeed serious about wanting to mess with me, then I swear, he will pay for it.'

Standing sadly before the window, Susannah raised her fingertips to the glass. Beyond the pane, cool sunlight was beginning to colour the dark, clouded sky with pastel yellows and pinks. She sighed, turning to stare up at Jesse. He was shocked to find there were tears in her eyes.

'Susannah,' he said, alarmed by this sight as he brushed them away, 'I promise, you will be all right – '

Her eyes closing softly, she shook her head, all the while pointing to herself. Then, her head went still as she prodded his chest, mouthing the word, '_You.'_

She then tapped the window, pointing at the rising sun, before holding up a single finger.

Jesse comprehended.

'Only one day…' he murmured, and she tearfully confirmed this thought, sliding her arms around him and resting her face against his throat. She breathed in, trying to savour his scent… If this truly was his last day here, she'd be determined to remember him.

But how could she possibly let him go now?

They stood there for heaven knows how long, holding each other and rocking very gently. The sun had well and truly risen in the sky, and Susannah's eyes had closed again. Despite being vertical, she'd nearly fallen asleep again in such a deep state of relaxation – although, hardly with an untroubled mind. Whispering softly to her, Jesse told her they could sleep for a little longer. She tiredly shook her head, pointing vaguely to her wrist, but Jesse laid her back down on the bed, moving beside her and brushing the hair from her face. She drifted off within the minute.

Jesse must have too, since, before long he felt a polite knock on his door before Father Dominic walked in –

And swore in disbelief.

Despite Susannah being completely decent, Jesse was certainly without a shirt, making the circumstances appear that little more sinister. Jolted awake by the noise, Susannah blinked blearily, before sitting upright in horror at her principal, gawking at the pair of them on the bed.

'I-I can explain,' Jesse spluttered. '_Padre_, she just spent the night…nothing disrespectful occurred, I swear – '

She shook her head frantically in agreement.

'And it was definitely not expected – she came over late last night, and it was raining, and you were already asleep, and we didn't want to disturb you – ' Jesse babbled on, Susannah backing him up with some dynamic nodding.

The priest's bright blue eyes flickered between the two young people now sitting several feet apart on his guest bed.

'For goodness sake,' he said disparagingly, 'the _Monsignor _sleeps here!'

Susannah stood up, still shaking her head.

Father Dominic raised his eyebrows. 'Susannah? Why can't you speak? What were you doing to lose your voice–'

He then paled, swallowed angrily, and shot Jesse a further accusing look. 'Well, _really!'_

'Paul Slater is responsible,' Jesse said frantically. A disconcerting thought flickered through Father Dominic's over-active imagination, before he finally swatted all of these conspiracies from his mind. The name of this pupil in particular registered, and he finally closed the door, entering the room fully. He noted with irritation that Susannah's attention had slipped again, and she had had taken to staring in bemusement at Jesse's abdominal region.

Clearing his throat, the priest asked Jesse to explain. Susannah's eyes snapped back to his, and she blushed a furious shade of crimson.

Once again recounting Paul's unseemly intrusion, Jesse settled back down onto the edge of the bed tentatively. Susannah thought better of it, instead standing awkwardly away from the both of them, unable to grasp how truly bizarre this situation was. Not only had she spent an innocent night with this man that she had uncharacteristically forceful feelings for, but she was now stricken mute and had been busted by her high school principal. Not exactly a typical day for her.

Looking distressed, Father Dominic cast a weary look towards her, still speaking to Jesse. 'But she will get her voice back, am I correct?'

The girl nodded fervently, and Jesse muttered, '...That's what he said. But I don't know if he's to be trusted...'

Father Dominic sighed, and cast Jesse a secret look which the man interpreted with perfect clarity. 'Even if she doesn't get it back...in time,' his stare intensified, 'You should not waste this day, children. It may be your last together.'

Susannah's face fell, and Jesse stood next to her.

'I don't want you to forget me...' he whispered to her. 'Come. We shall make this day one you will remember, querida.'

-** A f t e r G l o w – **

Review...? I know I don't deserve it after all this time, but please – give me some sugar. :)


	9. Second Hand Saliva

**Thank you SO MUCH for those reviews, girls! They made my day! **

**I hope this chapter isn't too augmented from the original sentiment of this story. It has been a long time, and I am doing my best to continue with the flow of the narrative. Still getting back into the swing o' things...**

**Love, **

**Lolly. **

**- A f t e r G l o w -**

Susannah had made every effort to make the events of the day fun for Jesse. However, there was no hiding her abject sorrow as they walked along the beach in the cloudy sunlight. Her heart was hurting too much to feign delight. Jesse was her addiction, and her dealer was about to cut her off prematurely – she didn't know how she was going to deal with it. What would happen when he was gone? Would he seem like a dream? Would she forget him, in time? Would she be able to fall in love again? It didn't seem possible, when considering the potency of her feelings for him. She was mourning him before he'd even disappeared.

Jesse was not immune to the despondency, either. He could scarcely take his eyes off her, too frightened that she'd be gone when he opened his lids again. A commanding clock hand ticked their seconds away, and tocked in mockery. She'd taken to scribbling down her thoughts in her desperate efforts to communicate something, but her hand seemed heavy and urgent. She was frightened for him.

_How will you die?_ she wanted to know, her black ink shining on the notepaper.

He frowned, taking her hand as he lay back on the sand. She leant over him, a silent siren against the sun. Her eyes, despite their fear, were deeply hypnotic in their beauty. He struggled to recall his thoughts.

'I am not sure,' he mused aloud. 'I will probably just cease to be.'

_But_, she scribbled, _Paul is an asshole – _

Jesse laughed. She scowled at him, and continued.

_- What if he tries to make you suffer?_

His gaze left hers as he hesitated on his reply. To be honest, it was something he had not thought of at all. He wasn't surprised to find that he didn't even care about his second death. He was almost at the point of accepting it now. He had everything he'd ever wanted, and if his life was to end at sunset, at least he could keep this little piece of forever when he died. Susannah cared for him, despite knowing the truth. What more could he have hoped for? It was surely already more than he deserved.

'It doesn't matter,' he smiled with an almost accepting serenity. 'You've given me more than I ever thought possible, _querida_, and that will sustain me no matter what happens next.'

The ocean rocked rhythmically out at sea, the gulls calling to each other over the crashing of the waves. Susannah turned and looked in fear up at the sun. It was high in the sky – the day was nearly half-way through.

Jesse drew a deep breath, savouring the scent of the ocean that teased the back of his tongue. Such sensory delicacy would be numb to him when he experienced his second death. He doubted very much that he would return as a ghost. Perhaps he ought to have been thanking Paul; perhaps _this_ was what he needed in order to be able to truly move on. Naturally, true rebirth would have trumped his imminent fate – but an entire life with Susannah was too much to ask for. He had never been a cruel person in his life, but he surely had not been so good as to deserve a happiness so complete?

It was fitting, he assured himself with mental resignation. He only hoped that Susannah could forgive him for knotting her heartstrings.

Just as Jesse turned to Susannah with apologies dancing on his tongue, he was surprised to be met with an expression not of acquiescent misery, but of fiery tenacity. Susannah glared at him, jabbing her finger at her notepad.

_No_, it said simply.

Jesse frowned. Had she heard the echoes of his thoughts? Was she already rejecting his sorrowful regrets of involving her in this?

However, further explanation followed as Susannah withdrew the notepad, scribbled fiercely for another moment, and shoved it back beneath her face.

_We're fixing this_, she said. _We can't give up – I am nowhere near ready to lose you._

Jesse smiled warmly at her, running his fingers through her hair. 'Susannah, it's done...'

She shoved his hand away and pointed at the sun, beaming down at them from its utmost position. Clearly, she believed that there was still room for improvement in their dire situation.

Without warning, she stood up and ran from the beach; sand exploded beneath her feet as she covered the distance to the walkway. Alarmed, Jesse took off after her. Had he scared her with his grim defeat? Was he savagely murdering her ability to hope forever?

'Susannah,' he begged, 'wait!'

Having grown up on a ranch, Jesse knew a thing or two about chasing wild horses when they escaped from their confines. Susannah proved to be a near match for their speed, but he soon caught up to her. When he finally seized her arm and pulled her to a grinding halt, he turned her around to find her face shining with tears.

Jesse's newborn heart fractured further. Never, in all of his whimsical fantasies of life, had he ever anticipated that he would be the cause of his _querida_'s pain. His throat choked at the sight of her.

She just shook her head at him constantly.

_We're not done_, she wrote.

**- A f t e r G l o w -**

Paul lounged luxuriously on his bed, flicking with great interest through one of his countless volumes of ancient shifter practise. In the corner of his room stood the ghost of a man, seemingly frozen in time. Around his head, a glowing crown of sharp white light buzzed suspiciously.

'It may seem harsh, what I'm doing to you,' Paul drawled at the ghost. 'But don't worry, buddy. In a few moments, you won't feel a thing.'

The ghost moaned pitifully, unable to form coherent words.

Paul stared intently down at his chosen text. 'Dr. Slaski theorised that ghosts are mere imprints of our memories of life,' he said, biting his lower lip. 'So one can only conclude that removal of those memories will result in the removal of the ghost itself...'

Paul snapped the book shut. 'My gramps was a smart guy in his day, but he never had the know-how to put most of his theories into practise. So just think of your sacrifice as a step toward a brighter future.'

The ghost twitched in a apparent agony. Paul remained unmoved.

'Well... it won't be _your_ bright future,' he remarked wryly. He pounced off of the bed and began to encircle his victim, monitoring his behaviour closely. 'You've stopped struggling as much... That means it's probably working. Soon, if all goes well, you'll just... fade away. No more pain. No more memory. And, most importantly, no more annoying ghost gaying up my room.'

Surely enough, the ghost began to flicker like white noise. Paul smirked, greatly impressed with himself.

'Of course,' he said to the diminishing ghost, 'This isn't exactly the method I have in mind for getting rid of Enrique-Envy. This is kind of like ghost euthanasia. But the difference between you and him was that you did nothing to piss me off. I'm perfectly happy for you to go this way. It's almost pleasant for you. But he's not going to be so lucky.'

A spasm of anger flashed through Paul's limbs as he reluctantly remembered how Jesse had snaked his way into Suze's heart, setting up a rigid residence there. This little memory removal would be a perfect remedy to Suze's recent affliction of masquerading love. He wouldn't go too far, of course... Suze was too hot to become a vegetable with no brain activity. But he'd rewind that mind of hers, just enough to allow him to pick up where he left off...

Unfortunately, that'd probably mean she'd forget her Shakespeare monologue again. Ah well – she hadn't been the brightest bulb in the classroom to begin with. But she was a coveted acquisition, nonetheless.

Just as Paul reached for his current tome, eager to find a Slaskian theory of a punishment befitting his undead rival, a knock sounded at his door.

'Paul,' called the overly cheerful voice of his grandfather's day-nurse, Greg.

'Fuck off,' Paul snapped dully, as was customary whenever that sunny twat interrupted him.

There came an uncomfortable cough. 'You have a visitor,' Greg replied through the door. 'She seems to have laryngitis. Maybe offer her a lozenge?'

Paul stopped dead. Well, not as dead as his cornered victim, but something alike. _Laryngitis_? Unless Kelly Prescott had screamed herself hoarse from a night with the football team and was over here for a quickie, he had a nasty suspicion of who his visitor may be.

Scrambling across his bed, he yanked the incandescent crown off of the ghost's head; at his touch, it dissolved. The ghost jolted, looking around blearily.

'I don't have time for you to fade,' Paul hissed scathingly; with a flick of his wrist, the ghost erupted in an explosion of black dust. His distant wail of pain succeeded him.

Making up for lost time, Paul launched over to his bedroom door and found an impatient Greg waiting there beside...

'Suze,' Paul said delightedly. 'What a pleasant surprise.'

Greg turned on his heel and left the two teenagers alone. Susannah nervously entered his room. Paul noted the empty notepad and pen in her left hand, and laughed openly. He turned from her.

'If you've come to plead your boyfriend's case, I'd save your breath. Or... should I say ink? You're not getting your voice back until those sexy, breathy sighs of yours are being whispered in my ear. But don't worry – I predict that that'll be around ten o'clock tonight...'

When he turned back, he expected to see Susannah crying. Or even raging silently, a mime of fury. What he did not expect was for his visitor to fall into him, pulling his lips down to hers.

Paul may have been a sociopathic megalomaniac, but he also happened to be a guy. Before any scepticism was around, all he could do was respond to her very forward advances. The notepad and pen tumbled from her hand as she seized the belt loops of his jeans, moulding herself against him.

A familiar lust ached deep within Paul. He could feel his hunger mounting – something he hoped Susannah would be doing to him shortly. But as the reality of the situation began to enter him, he smiled against her frenzied lips.

'You're still not getting it back,' he breathed callously.

Susannah paused. She pulled away, breathing hard. Then, she pointed specifically at her heart, before prodding his own.

_You_, she mouthed.

Staggered, Paul's eyebrows soared. '...What?'

She repeated the action. Paul could decipher no other meaning other than the only explanation – after such numerous displays of wretchedness and betrayal, she'd finally ditched the ghoulie in favour of some warm blood. _His_ warm blood, to be precise. His warm blood, which wasn't exactly rushing in the direction of his brain.

'Well,' Paul exclaimed, bewildered but ecstatic at this fortuitous turn of events. '_Finally_, the world is making a little more sense.'

At which point Suze grabbed his waist, urging him into her. She turbulently pulled him into his ensuite bathroom, slamming the door closed behind them.

The sound of the slamming door notified Jesse of his cue to enter the room. He desperately tried not to think of what Susannah was doing in that bathroom as a means of distraction. He figured, the quicker he found his answer to the dilemma he was facing, the quicker she'd be out of there. Another darker thought crossed his mind. What if she wanted to be in there? It had, after all, been her suggestion. Was she simply experimenting with her underlying curiosity?

Furious with himself for contemplating such things, Jesse snapped out of it and went to work on his hunt. To his great relief, Paul Slater's bed was littered with the same myriad of books it had been when he had first approached the boy. He swiped up the volume that lay open on the comforter, scanning every second page in desperation. After a minute or so, his eyes landed on a title that made his blood curdle.

His dread was only born of his fear that he was actually considering the idea of putting Susannah through this. But... it may have been the only chance they had left. And if this worked, well...

But how could he explain _why_ he so desperately needed her to have her voice back before sunset? He could he knowingly put that pressure on her? He knew she felt great affection for him, and for that, he was exuberant. But love? Was hers true? Would it be enough to save him? Was he being entirely too selfish?

A loud bang from the bathroom jolted Jesse to his overimaginative senses. He wheeled around, fully expecting to become face to face with a livid Paul Slater, but was relieved to see Susannah slinking from the bathroom, ceramic toothbrush holder in hand. Jesse took one sweeping look at her weapon of choice to the unconscious Paul, sprawled dumbly on the floor next to his pearly white toilet, and let out a bark of uncontained laughter. He stopped laughing when he saw Susannah pulling her shirt down a little. She noticed his stare, and shrugged sheepishly. When Jesse continued to grow pale, Susannah sighed and approached him, kissing him softly on his lips. Without words, she told him everything he needed to know.

_You are worth this_, she said.

Still dizzy from her fragrant proximity, Jesse hastily tried to recover from the loving beauty of her kiss. It helped a little that he had second-hand saliva on his mouth; that jolted him from his reverie.

Getting down to business, Jesse said softly, 'I may have found a possible avenue...'

He wondered if Susannah would continue to kiss him with such profound love when he told her his plan:

Namely... to ask her to die for him.

**- A f t e r G l o w -**

Please review! 3


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